4: No Name
by funnygirl00
Summary: This year will prove to be the most difficult for Sherlock and Tammy Holmes as they progress through an uncertain future with their children. Will either of them be ready for the greatest danger that lies hidden in the shadows? Is it Moriarty? Is there an additional nameless threat that will destroy them and everything they've worked for?
1. 1: The pardon

**And I'm back everyone! I hope everyone's been enjoying season 4 of Sherlock and to those who have seen the first episode...you know what I mean, terrible isn't it? This show has stirred up so many mixed emotions, especially this season!**

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 **As always, I own nobody except for Tammy, Linda, Sherlock Jr., Alexander, Scott and any other Holmes children that may or may not make an appearance. Rating may get bumped up to an M later.**

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 **Be sure to read all the previous stories that have been leading up to this point, otherwise, it will cause some confusion. Stories 5-8, may be skipped, because they'll add spoilers to this story.**

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Chapter one: The pardon

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I'm not sure where I am. Except that, this room is dark and cold. Sherlock Jr. and Linda, on Mycroft's orders, loudly scream and cry for Daddy, who's in the other room. I can't believe we're here and I hope and pray that Mycroft, as promised, will be able to get Sherlock off. Scott and Alexander start screaming just as the door to the other room opens and Mycroft comes out.

"For God's sake," he groans. "get those children in here so they'll be quiet!"

I nod, forcing back a smile. "Yes Sir." I stand up and walk into the room. "It's all right you two. We'll see daddy in a moment." I come through the door and enter a dark room that positively screams Top Secret! I feel somewhat awkward as I enter the room and three faces swivel towards me.

"Excuse me," a woman with a thin, pinched face speaks, shooting me a pointed glare. "Mycroft, what are she and all of these children doing in here?"

Mycroft glances at me, balancing my sons, Scott and Alexander in my arms. Sherlock Jr. and Linda immediately moved to sit in two chairs, right behind their father. All of the children at this point decide to miraculously be silent. Sherlock was sitting in a chair, facing the table with three people and the secretary. "I need her in here to help keep my brother under control."

"She cannot be-

Mycroft cut off the man. "We're getting her husband off 'death row' so to speak, I doubt that she'll reveal anything to anyone beyond this room." Sherlock turns to me and winks at me. I roll my eyes at him and turn to face the group of people at the table. I go to stand beside Sherlock, leaning against the chair. "Besides," Mycroft shoots me a pointed look. "the children wouldn't be quiet." I chuckled and rocked Scott and Alexander gently. "What you're about to see is classified beyond top secret." He looks towards me. "Is that quite clear?" I bob my head as he turns towards the elderly secretary in the corner of the room. "Don't minute any of this." She nods her head before folding her hands in her lap. "Once beyond these walls, you must never speak of it. A D-notice has been slapped on the entire incident." I arch my brow. I cannot help but be slightly impressed with how fast Mycroft was able to move. "Only those within this room, code names Antarctica, Langdale, Porlock and Love….will ever know the whole truth."

At that moment, I hear Sherlock texting on his phone. I give him a nudge with my foot. "Sherlock." I hiss. He ignores me. "Sherlock!" I roll my eyes in exasperation.

"As far as everyone else is concerned," I continue nudging Sherlock. However, he's tweeting, his latest fascination unfortunately. "going to the Prime Minister and way beyond, Charles Augustus. Are you _tweeting_?!"

The exasperation in Mycroft's voice causes me to jump. Sherlock doesn't have enough time to hide a guilty expression as he covers his phone. "No." However, the sound of a tweet being sent is heard in the room anyway.

"Well," Mycroft snaps. "that's what it looks like."

"Of course I'm not tweeting." Sherlock looks to me for backup. "Why would I be tweeting?"

I look to Mycroft. "He's tweeting."

His brows arch in surprise as Mycroft reaches for Sherlock's phone. "Give me that."

"What? No! Get off." Sherlock attempts to hang onto his phone with both hands. "What are you doing?" Mycroft struggles to get a hold of it and I shake my head in amusement. The two of them look like children arguing over a toy! "Get off."

"Give it over Sherlock."

He looks at me indignantly. "What?"

Sherlock and Linda break into giggles as Mycroft orders strictly. "Give it here." He finally gets the phone from Sherlock and reads the tweets aloud. "Back on terra firma."

"Don't read them out." Sherlock mutters.

"Free as a bird." Mycroft continues. My mouth drops open slightly in surprise at Sherlock's rather flippant behavior.

"God," he groans. "you're such a spoilsport."

"Will you take this matter seriously, Sherlock?" Mycroft demands angrily.

"I _am_ taking it seriously." Sherlock shoots him an indignant look. "What makes you think I'm not taking it seriously?"

"Hash tag, oh what a beautiful morning." Mycroft says sarcastically, holding up Sherlock's phone. I cannot help but snort and Mycroft shoots me a look.

"I'm sorry, it's just…something happened a long time ago with 'Oh what a beautiful morning', that I'd forgotten about."

"Oh yes," Mycroft holds the phone out to me. "I recall. My brother was drunk, I believe."

I hand Alexander to Mycroft, taking Sherlock's phone from him. "Quite intoxicated." Poor Mycroft was frozen in horror while holding his nephew. "Support his head." I then hand Sherlock's phone over to Linda. "Don't let daddy have this, ok?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Yes mommy!"

Sherlock glowers at me. "Low blow, Tammy, using the children. Very low blow."

"Sorry husband, but back to the situation, please?"

"Look," Sherlock explains indignantly to Mycroft and the others. "not so long ago I was on a mission that meant certain death, _my_ death, and now I'm back! In a nice warm office with my wife, four children, my big brother and," Sherlock's head jerk's to the side in curiosity. "are those ginger nuts?"

My mouth drops in shock as he jumps up and heads straight towards the plate of the cookies. Mycroft shakes his head in despair."Oh, God."

" _Love_ ginger nuts." Sherlock says excitedly as he grabs a huge handful of the cookies.

"Our doctor said you were clean." The lady says, looking towards Mycroft.

"I am, utterly." Sherlock hands a cookie each to Linda and Sherlock. Linda tucks the phone under her legs before taking the cookie. Sherlock makes a face at her before turning back towards his chair. "No need for stimulants now, remember? I have work to do."

The other man shakes his head as Sherlock crunches into the cookie. "You're high as a kite!"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Natural high, I assure you."

I sigh. "Unfortunately, that's true."

" _Totally_ natural. I'm just," Sherlock holds out his hands before singing dramatically, and rather badly. " _glad to be aliiiiiive!_ "

I groan. "Sherlock…no singing please."

"Is dad sick?" Linda asks her eyes wide with fear.

"He's singing." I explain.

Sherlock Jr. shakes his head. "That not singing."

Sherlock glowers at me. "You turned them against me."

"Shut up Anakin."

He frowns. "Anakin who?"

I groan. "Never mind. Now please, back to business. I should like to go home soon."

Sherlock chuckles before turning back to the group. "What shall we do next?" he points to the secretary. "What's your name?"

She glances around before stuttering nervously. "Vivian."

Sherlock smiles at her before asking. "What would _you_ do, Vivian?"

The woman is shocked. "Pardon?"

"Well, it's a lovely day." I groan. "Go for a stroll?"

The lady frowns at him and shakes her head in disbelief. The other man drops his face into his hand. I turn to Mycroft. "I take it back; I think he is on something." I groan. "God, it's like raising five children."

"Well, you married him." he points out.

"I know." I sigh. "Maybe I should have my head examined."

"Make a paper airplane?" He continues babbling around his cookie. "Have an ice lolly?"

"Ice lolly," she says, her face brightening somewhat. "I suppose."

"Ice lolly it is!" he says dramatically. "What's your favorite?"

She looks hesitantly towards her superiors, unsure about answering him or not. "Well, really, I shouldn't."

"Go on." Sherlock's hypnotic, encouraging tone is too much to resist.

"Do they still do Mivvis?" she asks.

"Mr. Holmes." the blonde lady says rather firmly.

"Yes?" both Sherlock and Mycroft answer at the same time, causing the twins to laugh again. Mycroft glowers at Sherlock.

She addresses Sherlock. "We do need to get on."

He nods his head. "Yes, of course." He hands me Alexander back rather hastily. I shake my head as he brushes off his suit, for fear of contamination.

Mycroft starts the video again with the remote control. Sherlock tries to coax Linda over to him with another cookie, but she stubbornly shakes her head. he groans and dramatically sinks into the chair. "Nobody loves me."

"Go eat some worms Sherlock." I whisper as I watch the footage. Oh, how my mind flashed back to the moment Sherlock spoke those iconic words. _Do your research._ _I'm not a hero. I'm a high functioning sociopath._ I hold my breath as the scene changes. Sherlock, instead of raising his hand and firing the gun, drops the gun as a shot goes off. I stare at the screen in amazement as the footage is replayed several times. I gasp. "Oh…my…God."

"I see." Sherlock is unimpressed. "Who _is_ supposed to have shot him, then?"

"Some over-eager squaddie with an itchy trigger finger," the man says dismissively. "that's who."

"That's not what happened at all." Sherlock mutters as he takes a bite of the cookie.

"It is now." Mycroft declares.

"Thank you," I say, still rather stunned. "so very much."

"Remarkable." The lady turns to the man beside her. "How did you do it?"

"We have some very talented people working here." He says, trying to keep a hint of pride out of his voice. "If James Moriarty can hack every TV screen in the land, rest assured we have the tech to... doctor a bit of security footage." He points to the screen as Sherlock tosses a bit of biscuit towards his mouth as one would toss a grape. Sherlock misses his mouth and scrambles madly to find the piece hiding in his coat. "That is now the official version; the version anyone we want to will see."

"No need to go to the trouble of getting some sort of official pardon. You're off the hook, Mr. Holmes." I nod my head. Sherlock can't even be bothered to look up. "You're home and dry."

Mycroft glowers sternly down at Sherlock. "Okay, cheers." He stands up, buttons his jacket with the last cookie in his mouth. Once his coat is buttoned, he reaches for his coat.

"Obviously there's unfinished business." This woman is so calm and cold, it's almost disturbing, but then, she does work for the government. "Moriarty."

Sherlock rolls his eyes and attempts to talk around the biscuit. "I told you. Moriarty's dead." He bites it off and turns to Sherlock and Linda. "Come on you two."

"You say he filmed that video message before he died." She questions, not willing to give up on Sherlock.

He pauses for a moment. "Yes."

"You also say you know what he's going to do next." She holds his gaze. "What does that mean?"

"Perhaps that's all there is to it." The man points at Sherlock. "Perhaps he was just trying to frighten you."

I shake my head. "Not likely."

"No, no. He would never be that disappointing." He begins to zone out, mentally attempting to see everything before it unfolds. "He's planned something; something long-term; something that would take effect if he never made it off that rooftop alive. Posthumous revenge." He shakes his head. "No, better than that." Linda latches onto his leg and Sherlock picks her up, pocketing the phone. "Posthumous game."

"Mommy!" Linda wails. "Daddy took the phone!"

He frowns at her. "It's alright."

She glowers at him while Sherlock Jr. proclaims. "Mommy said…no phone!" his lower lip stuck out in a stern frown, making him look like his uncle for a moment.

I laugh and shake my head. "It's alright baby, daddy can have it now."

"We brought you back to deal with this." Her tone is slightly testy. "What are you going to do?"

"Wait." He states.

The poor woman is quite surprised as she repeats. "Wait?"

"Of _course_ wait. I'm the target. Targets wait."

I sigh. "Sherlock, please explain it a little bit better."

He sighs. "Look, whatever's coming, whatever he's lined up, I'll know when it begins." He throws his coat over his arm. "I always know when the game is on. Do you know why?"

"Why?" she's slightly exasperated now.

He turns back to face her. "Because I love it." he turns to me. "Come on, let's go home."

"Thank you." I turn to everyone. "And thank you, everyone, for making this possible."

"Tammy, come on." opens the door, waits for me to tuck Scott and Alexander into their stroller before nudging me out the door. "I'm taking you home and getting you pregnant."

I shake my head. "You wish."

"It's the only way to ensure you'll go into hiding."

"For nine months at least," I remind him. "We're in this together. Getting me pregnant will only delay things."

"What's pregnant, mommy?" Sherlock Jr. asked.

I glower at Sherlock. "It's nothing. Watch how you talk around our children."

"It's how your mother had Scott and Alexander." Sherlock began to explain rapidly. "Now, when two adults marry, they engage in something known as inter-

"Sherlock!" I cut him off. "They're just children!"

He frowns. "Not good?"

"Not good at all husband. They're way too young." I take Sherlock and Sherlock Jr's hand. "Come on, let's go home."

"Indeed." His eyes light up. "This is going to be so much fun."

I roll my eyes. "Don't I know it. so, what's first on the agenda?"

"Getting you pregnant."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "You're such an idiot." I straighten up and begin to push the stroller. "It won't happen Sherlock."

"Ride!" Linda demanded. "Ride daddy!"

He groaned and pulled her up onto his shoulders. She latched onto his hair as Sherlock Jr. began demanding a ride. "Up daddy!"

He picked up Sherlock Jr. before turning to me. "Why do we have so many kids again?"

"You're the smart one Sherlock Holmes." I remind him. " _You_ tell me! And you want me pregnant again. What if I have another set of twins?"

He rolls his eyes. "Highly unlikely.


	2. 2: Horror vs Fairytales

Chapter two: Horror vs. Fairytales

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 _Later that evening,_

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"There was once a merchant in the famous market at Baghdad." At the sound of Sherlock's voice, I quietly push the door open to Sherlock Jr. and Linda's room."One day he saw a stranger looking at him in surprise ... and he knew that the stranger was Death."

I frown, this sounds like rather a morbid story to be reading to the children before they go to sleep. I poke my head in and find Sherlock telling a story to the children. Sherlock is sitting in a chair, facing their beds, with his back towards me. Linda and Sherlock are sitting on the top of their pulled back bed covers as Sherlock continues with his narration. Their eyes are wide as their father dramatically tells the story.

"Pale and trembling, the merchant fled the marketplace and made his way many, many miles to the city of Samarra, for there he was sure Death could not find him." Sherlock Jr's shoulders relax somewhat for a second, and then the tension comes back. "But when at last he came to Samarra, the merchant saw, waiting for him, the grim figure of Death."

Linda gasps and covers her mouth, her eyes wide. I cannot help but wonder if she understands what her father is actually saying or is she reacting to his voice. I lean against the door, caught up in Sherlock's tale of intrigue.

"Very well," said the merchant. "I give in. I am yours. But tell me: why did you look surprised when you saw me this morning in Baghdad?" "Because," said Death, "I had an appointment with you tonight – in Samarra."

"Oh no!" Sherlock Jr., Linda and I all say in unison.

Sherlock spins around to see me standing there. "What are you doing there?"

"Listening to the story." I step into the room and sit on the arm of his chair. "You're quite the story teller."

"Another!" Linda asks. "Please?"

Sherlock looks to me and I shake my head. "Sorry you two, but it's late and mommy needs to talk to daddy."

"Ok." Sherlock Jr. flops back onto his pillow. "I'm asleep!"

I laugh, as does Sherlock as we head over to our children. "Very good." after giving them kisses, wishing them goodnight and making sure they're comfortable, Sherlock takes my hand and guides me out of their room. "Where'd you hear that story from?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Mycroft." We move out of the flat and head down the stairs. "He'd tell me that one constantly growing up."

"Sounds a little scary, but they seem to enjoy it, despite it being a horror story."

"Fear is good for them, it keeps them alive."

"It'll also keep them awake at night. I know when I was their age; I loved fairy tales as opposed to darker legends."

Sherlock snorts. "Fairy tales are ridiculous. They all have idiotically happy endings and I don't want Linda's head getting filled up with ideas of true love and princes riding in on white horses and all that rot."

I laugh at him, holding onto the banister. "Sherlock! They're just stories!"

"Stories that'll create illusions and a distortion of reality and do quite a bit of damage to them when they grow older. Things are _never_ just stories."

I shake my head. "Sherlock, princes and true love do exist."

He snorts. "No they don't and don't tell me that they do."

"Honestly, I believe they do." I turn and drape my arms around his neck. "You're my prince." He frowns for a moment, in deep contemplation. "Am I not your true love as you are mine?"

He's silent for a moment. "No." He suddenly scoops me up into his arms, bridal fashion. His actions surprise me for a moment. "As I've told you many times….you're my heart and you'll always be that. Love it comes and goes, takes many variations in emotions….but the heart, it is constant and consistent."

"Hearts," I remind him. "do stop beating."

"And then your life is over." He reminds me. "And that's what my life would be without you."

I shake my head and cup his face in my hand. "I love you," he leans forward and gives me a light smack on the lips. "my mad scientist."

His brows arch. "Mad am I?" I giggle lightly. "Shall we step into my laboratory then, wife?"

I giggle. "Do I have a choice?"

"No," Sherlock opens the door to our flat. "you don't Mrs. Holmes."

I push the door closed behind him. "Alright then, Mr. Holmes."

* * *

 _The following afternoon,_

* * *

And I was right. Sherlock and Linda had run downstairs to spend the night with us after claiming to see 'Death' in the bedroom. Sherlock and I had fortunately slept for a few hours before they came down after their nightmares. Sherlock tried getting them back up to their own rooms, but he'd had no luck. Linda hadn't slept well, so, she was in a sour mood. Sherlock Jr. went out like a light as soon as he was under the covers with us.

A tap on the door jolts me out of my train of thought from the stack of dirty dishes. I look up as Mary enters. "Hello there." she moves forward, hand on her stomach.

I smile. "Hello." I study her for a moment as I dry my hands. "One of those days."

She nods. "Yes." She groans and rubs her stomach. "How'd you do it, with two sets of twins?"

I shrug. "No idea, but don't worry Mary," I place a hand on her belly, just as their daughter kicks against my hand. "it's almost over."

"Thank God!"

"So," I lean forward and whisper. "do you have them?"

"Yes." She reaches into her purse hands me the birth control pills I asked her to pick up for me. I reach into my pocket and hand her the money for them. "Why don't you want Sherlock to know about this?"

I snort. "He wants me pregnant so I'll have to go underground until this whole Moriarty thing is under control."

She frowns. "Isn't Moriarty dead though?"

I nod. "Yes." I tuck the pills into a Ziploc bag, pocketing one to take now and then drop them inside my bag of flour. "But he's not telling me something, I don't know what it is yet and I shudder to think that Moriarty is still alive! However, as Moriarty shot himself in the head, in front of Sherlock, there'd be no way for Sherlock not to notice if he was alive! It's unlikely!" Mary started at me in silence for a moment. I exhaled, realizing what I'd done. "Oh, God, now I sound like Sherlock."

"I noticed." She frowns. "You're going to keep them in the flour?"

I nod. "Sherlock can't cook and he knows better than to go poking about in my kitchen. Best place to hide it away from the children until I can think of somewhere else."

She shakes her head. "God, you two have an interesting marriage. Can't you just tell him you don't want to get pregnant?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said something akin to, too bad!" I laugh. "That man is so funny at times."

She arches a brow. "That's one way of putting it. can't imagine John telling me that."

I chuckle. "Well, we did marry two totally different kinds of men." My kettle goes off and I reach for some mugs. "Tea?"

"Yes, please."

"Cream in mine!" Sherlock calls from the other room.

"Say the magic word!" I call back.

"Fine!" he sighs. "Please!"

"Thank you!"

Mary helps me serve up the tea as I take the pill. I come in with the tea tray just as Sherlock stabs a multi-tool knife into the mantelpiece, through a huge stack of letters. "If this gets any better," he declares. "I'm going to have to get two knives!"

"Well," John says from his laptop. "it pays to advertise."

I sigh and shake my head. "Must you do that?" I ask as I hand Sherlock his tea.

"Yes, I must."

"If you insist."

"Mommy!" Linda comes in the room, well, stumbles into the room wearing my high heels. "Can't walk!"

I laugh. "They're too big for you."

Sherlock Jr. peers up from his coloring book and shakes his head in disapproval as Linda asks. "How do you walk?"

I squat down beside her. "Lots of practice."

She nods. "Me practice!"

"Linda," Sherlock says in a firm, yet gentle tone. "get out of your mother's shoes, ok?" she nods. "I'll get you a pair of shoes," her eyes light up. "when you're older."

The light dies in her eyes as she gets out of my shoes and slumps on the couch. "Spoil sport."

Sherlock's eyes widen and he turns to me. "Where'd that come from?"

I shoot him a pointed look. "I haven't a clue."

Sherlock moves to sit down in his chair, eyes glued to his phone. Mary moves to the window one hand holding her stomach and the other her lower back. "So," she asks. "what about Moriarty, then?"

"Ooh, I have a plan." I notice Mary wince as she rubs her stomach again. "I'm going to monitor the underworld; every quiver of the web will tell me when the spider makes his move."

He sends off another tweet as I hand him his tea. I turn away and he gives me a slap on my behind, causing me to jump for a second. I turn around as he gives me this totally ridiculous face.

"Basically," John asks as he looks up from his laptop. "your 'plan' is just to sit there solving crimes like you always do?"

Sherlock smirks up at me. "Awesome, isn't it?"

I shrug and walk away, handing out the rest of the teacups. "Maybe." I sink onto the couch beside Linda, wrapping an arm around her. she rests her head against my shoulder. "That's one word that comes to mind Sherlock." He jumps up, heads to the mantelpiece and rips a letter from under the knife. "Crazy is another one."

He frowns. "Who are you calling crazy?"

"You." Linda says before I can open my mouth.

I look down at her as Sherlock's silent for a moment. "Ohh, she is going to make some guy miserable when she gets older."

I arch a brow. "You're going to let her date when she gets older?"

"No." He declares. "I'll let her torment the poor sap before locking her up in her room!" Linda sticks her tongue out at him and he returns the gesture. "And you're never getting married!"

John and Mary attempt to hide their laughter behind their hands as Linda's eyes widen in shock and she lets out a wail that causes Sherlock to glower at her. "Mommy!"

I shoot him a look as she buries her face in my chest. "Daddy's only teasing." I rub her back. "Honest." I glower at Sherlock. "Right, Sherlock?"

He sighs and looks upward at the ceiling. "I'm just teasing Linda." She doesn't respond to him. he walks over to her and pats her awkwardly on the head. "I didn't mean it." she doesn't look up and he sighs. "I'm sorry."

Instantly, her tears dry up and she looks up at him and declares with a shake of her head. "Good!"

Sherlock and my mouth's drop open as she hops off the couch and walks over to the coloring table with Sherlock. I begin to chuckle and he says. "That's…not funny."

"You just got owned by your daughter." John chokes, spewing tea across his keyboard at my words. "It's hysterical Sherlock! I thought you were the greatest detective! Couldn't you tell that she was bluffing?"

He glowers at me. "Oh, shut up." I only laugh louder at him. "I mean it Tammy!"

"Oh," I wave my hand at him. "read the letter in your hand, there's a case to be solved, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock huffs and I reach for a magazine, smiling at Mary. "Oh, for God's sake John!" Sherlock snaps. "Are you really blogging about this?"

"People want to know," he reminds Sherlock patiently. "that you're human. You've got a wife, two kids, the public will love this."

"No, they won't." he frowns. "Our life is our own business."

I nod solemnly. "I'll have to agree with Sherlock on this one John." Both men look at me in surprise. "However," I smirk. "this was a great moment, so, go ahead and share it!"

Sherlock groans dramatically. "Tammy!" he finally glances at the paper in his hand and his eyes light up. he grins slightly. "Fascinating!"

I sigh. "This is going to be a long few months." I pat the couch. "Sit down for a few moments Mary, this'll help."

She shakes her head. "I need to stand for a bit."

"I know the pains. This couch was actually my favorite for those aches."

She sighs. "Fine." she very carefully sinks down and after a few moments, her expression changes. "God!" her brows rise. "This couch is wonderful. I may have to come over here and borrow it!"

"Well," I sink back. "it's a good thing both of our husbands are going to be busy together than, isn't it?" the doorbell rings and everyone pauses. I stand up. "And, the mayhem begins. Sherlock, your first client!"


	3. 3: The thrills of parenthood

Chapter three: The thrills of parenthood

* * *

For the next two months, Sherlock was constantly on his phone solving case after case. I almost suspected that he was on drugs, but then he'd have been completely insane. He was somewhat high, but that's because he was concentrating on the cases so much.

I did notice he was becoming totally oblivious to things going on around him because he was so engrossed in his work. The children and I took a backseat, while I didn't mind, our children did, Linda especially. She really wanted to bond with him, but, it was hard for her, especially with his constant mood swings. Sherlock Jr. on the other hand, he could have cared less! He got a thrill out of watching his dad act like a total nutter.

Things came to a head one day when I came back from grocery shopping with Scott and Alexander to find a rather unusual scene. Sherlock is sitting in his chair working on his laptop and his cell phone. Linda is on a chair behind him, putting in pink and purple claw hair clips. Mary is sitting in John's chair while John stands behind her. Both of them are watching this entire scene, contemplating what to do next. Sherlock Jr. had managed to find a bag of chips and was carefully eating them, watching his father in fascination.

"Hopkins, arrest Wilson." Sherlock orders. "Dimmock, look in the lymph nodes."

 _Wilson?!_ A female voice, leads me to believe that it's Hopkins he's skypeing.

 _Lymph nodes?!_ Dimmock asks, sounding positively stunned.

I groan as I realize that two people are seeing Sherlock with glittered clips in his hair and our daughter keeps adding more. "Sherlock." Mary tries to speak first. I'm at a loss at what to say or do at the moment.

Sherlock ignores her and address Dimmock. "Yes. You may have nothing but a limbless torso but there'll still be traces of ink left in the lymph nodes under the armpits. If your mystery corpse had tattoos, the signs will be there."

 _Bloody hell!_ Dimmock demands. _Is that a guess?_

I roll my eyes. That man hasn't gotten much smarter since 'the Blind Banker' as John dubbed that case. "I never guess." He declares before shutting off Dimmock's screen.

"Sherlock." Mary tries again.

 _So, he's the killer?_ Hopkins's catches Sherlock's attention again. _The canary trainer?_

"Of course he's the killer."

 _Didn't see_ _that_ _coming._

"Hm, naturally." He closes her screen and resumes work on his phone. He notices me standing there and bobs his head at me. "Hi Tammy. Shopping uneventful?"

"Very."

"Sherlock," John says tentatively. "you can't go on spinning plates like this."

" That's it!" Sherlock's mouth falls open and his eyes widen. "The place was spinning." He jumps up, runs his hands through his hair and freezes in place as his hands encounter the pink and purple barrettes. "Oh, God!" he starts shouting. "Linda!" Linda drops the nail polish that she has in her hand and stares at her father in shock as he shouts in her face. "You little minx! How dare you!?"

"William Scott Sherlock Holmes!" I snap as I stride towards him and give him a shove out of Linda's face. "That's enough. How dare you!" I step in front of Linda. "She's a child!"

"She's got to learn that she cannot do things like that." he snarled. "She made me look like an idiot!"

"You're doing a good impression of an idiot right now! Sherlock!" I shout at him. "For God's sake, she's only three!"

"Still," he growls out. "that is no excuse."

I shake my head and say. "She's your daughter. They probably saw her in the background and thought you were indulging her in some father-daughter time while working."

"Why would she even do this?" he demands as he pulls at pink one out, with a look of distaste. "She knows I hate it."

"She likes your hair."

"Why?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not going to answer that stupidly obvious question."

"Well, why doesn't she play with your hair?"

"Mine's different and as I've told you, the children have been missing you, Linda especially. Sherlock, on the other hand, loves you but he somehow understands that you don't have time for him, but that is wrong. No child, should be neglected by their father."

"I am not neglecting them."

"Oh, the hell you are!" I bark. "When was the last time you told them a story?"

No answer from him, but Sherlock Jr. answered it. "Last week."

"Sherlock, you swore to me that you'd not neglect them."

"I don't have time, Tammy!" he barks at me. "There is a bit of a war going on!"

"And yet you still find the time to take a romp with me in the sheets instead of using that time for your children." He crosses his arms and glowers down at me. I mirror his actions. "You're breaking your promises to me again, Sherlock Holmes." he frowned in confusion. "You swore to me in, in your wedding vows that you'd be a patient and loving father to them."

"Oh, for God's sake Tammy!" he snaps. "I'm aware of that! but I have work to do and that must come first!"

I shake my head. "No, we all come first! Equal territory!"

At that moment, Linda starts crying and our heads go towards her. he sighs. "Can you quiet her?"

"Yes, I can," as much as it hurt me, I shake my head. "but, I won't."

He looks at me in shock as I walk over and head towards the kitchen door. "What?"

"Mary, John?" I ask. "Can you two accompany me for a moment, upstairs?"

Sherlock stares at me. "What are you doing?" I don't answer him. John and Mary follow me out of the room as Sherlock calls. "You can't leave me with a crying baby!"

"She," I bite out as I turn and face him. "is your daughter. You made her cry. You will start acting like her father and fix this problem." Scott and Alexander now start crying. "I'm leaving you with three crying babies now. Sherlock, be sure to help out your father a bit." He nods his head emphatically.

"Mommy!" Linda moves towards me and I shut the door, locking it behind me as Linda starts crying harder. I cover my mouth as Linda bangs on the door. "Don't leave me!"

I fight back tears as I hear Sherlock Jr. speaking. "It's ok Linda. Talk to daddy." He's quite the clever boy. I then hear Sherlock picking up Linda, causing her to cry more.

Mary takes me by the arm. "Come, you should leave them alone for a bit."

I nod and inhale deeply. "I know, but," I shake my head. "it's so hard."

"It's a good thing you're a strong person." She gives me a poke towards the stairs. "Let's go down to the café."

I sigh. "Alright."

As Sherlock sticks his head out with a still squalling Linda. "Tammy," he begs. "for God's sake, you can't leave me here!"

"Back in that room, now, William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" I shout. "Right now! I am leaving for two hours and you three better be reconciled when I return? Understood!" He freezes in shock, then steps backwards into the room. I groan and rub my head. "Oh, God, this hurts worse than a bullet. Why do things like this always hurt?"

"Because," John explains. "you love them both. It really is for the best."

I didn't enjoy any time in the café. I turned off my phone, so, I wouldn't get any messages from Sherlock. I wound up ordering a burger, shake and fries, all of which I wound up consuming. Mary and John talked baby names and I gave my input.

After an hour, I stood up. "Oh, I can't stand it! I've got to go check on them." I stand up and grab my purse. "I'll be back!"

Mary shakes her head. "Tammy, wait at least 20 more minutes."

I grab my purse. "I'm sorry, an hour has been long enough for me." I plop the money down at my place, head straight out the door and around the corner to go upstairs. I'm not sure what to expect when I walk in the room, but I'm certain it's a mess.

I push the door open and freeze as I take in the sight of the room. "What are you doing?"

Sherlock looks up from where he's rocking the twins in their swings. "I'm having Linda help me with the case so she can understand what I'm doing." He looks up at me. "Did you know that her IQ is off the charts?" He turns the computer screen towards me and my mouth drops as I can't believe he's got her look at someone who was shot in the head. "She noticed a red thread among all the blood and brains."

"Must be the killers." Sherlock Jr. states proudly.

My mouth vainly tries to force words to form, but they won't. I cannot help but sink onto the floor, face palming my hands on my knees. "Oh, for God's sake." I begin crying. "What am I going to do with you?"

I hear Sherlock approach me and he gets down on his hands and knees in front of me with a shake of his head and a smile on his face. "I've no idea, but," he takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. "why don't you keep me?"

I shake my head and begin smiling brighter. "Oh, you crazy man!"

Sherlock leans forward as Sherlock Jr. let's out a groan. "No more kissing."

Sherlock sighs and turns to his son. "Sherlock, just turn around so I can kiss your mother."

"Daddy," Linda asks. "where's this man's clothes?" Sherlock and I jump apart as he races for the laptop. Sure enough, Linda had started browsing through all the pictures on Sherlock's laptop. Sure enough, the man is practically naked as a jaybird, save for the jacket someone had the decency to drape around his man parts. She points to the man's guts, which are streaming out of a gash on his stomach. "And what are these?"

Sherlock hastily closes the picture and looks up at me sheepishly. "Still want to keep me?"

* * *

 _Two days later,_

* * *

My phone rings and its Mary. "Hi Mary?"

 _Tammy?_ She sounds stressed. _My water broke!_

I inhale. "Alright, I'd say keep calm, but you're a nurse, so, you know what to do."

 _I can't get a hold of John or Sherlock._

I bit my lip and look around. "Uhh, Mary, I'm about 20 minutes away from the flat. I'll try getting a hold of them. shall I call 999 and send someone your way?"

 _No. I'll be fine._ she inhales sharply. _Just…get them here!_

"I will! Bye." I look down at the kids and groan. "Right." I call Mrs. Hudson first, but she doesn't pick up so it goes straight to voice mail. "Hello, Mrs. Hudson. Mary's gone into labor and I need someone to look after the children. Can you please call me if you can supervise them?" I hang up and dial Sherlock. He doesn't pick up, so I leave him a message. "William Scott Sherlock Holmes, you and John better look at your phones, I'm not sure where you are, but, you two are in a whole lot of trouble if you two aren't with Mary by the time I get to John's flat!" I hang up just as Mrs. Hudson calls in. "Hello?"

 _Tammy!_ Naturally, she's excited. _I just got your message. I'm almost home. I'm about 15 minutes away._

"So am I. can you watch the children?"

 _Yes, of course I can! This is so exciting!_

I laugh lightly. "Isn't it just? I've got to go now, see you in a bit."

The poor taxi driver had to deal with me directing him through every shortcut I knew to get to baker street. I called Sherlock several times, but he must have had his phone off or something because he wasn't picking up and my voicemails were getting angrier by the second. When I got there, I had him wait until I came back out. as I opened the door just as I heard Sherlock and John talking.

"59 missed calls." John says tightly.

"We're in a lot of trouble." Sherlock declares. "I've got about 20 from Tammy."

"The hell you are Sherlock Holmes!" I snap as I come in with the kids. He and John hurry down the stairs, eyes wide. "Mary's in labor! Mrs. Hudson!" I shout! She opens the door and enters. "Ah, there you. thank you for coming on such short notice."

"No problem." She waves me out of the way. "Go on! you three! Hurry up!"

All three of us pile into the taxi, Sherlock and I bicker all the way there. John gives up on trying to get us to stop and turns his attentions to the poor taxi driver. Sherlock and I are still arguing when we arrive there, pay the taxi man and stop long enough to get Mary settled into john's car. John, is the only one calm enough to drive towards the hospital. Sherlock opts for back seat, so, he's out of my reach.

Poor Mary is in the back of John's car groaning. "Ow! Oh my God." She presses both of her hands against the roof. "Oh my God!"

John is still the epitome of calm as he glances in the rear view window. "Relax. It's got two syllables."

" I'm a nurse, darling." She reminds him in frustration. "I think I know what to do!"

" Come on then, come on." John mimics breathing, trying to get Mary to follow suit. "Re…lax.

She now begins squirming on the seat. "No, just drive! Please, God, just drive!" She pleads. "God, drive!"

"John, it's like trying to push a watermelon through." I remind him. "She is not going to relax."

"She needs to relax." She screams and Sherlock pauses from his texting to glance at Mary, freezing for a moment. "Sherlock." John says sternly. "Mary!"

" That's it, Mary." He stupidly decides to follow John's example. "Re-

"Don't you start." Mary savagely snarls out.

However, Sherlock can't stop himself from finishing the word. "lax." A split second later, Mary squashes Sherlock's face against the window.

I can't help but start laughing as Sherlock stays pinned there rather helplessly against the window. "John?" Mary says as she braces her second hand against Sherlock's head. "John, I think you have to pull over." She suddenly shifts back into a sitting position.

"Mary, Mary ...

"PULL OVER!" she screams at him.

Sherlock looks down towards Mary's legs and his mouth falls open in shock. "Oh my God!" his eyes widen in horror before turning to John and shouting. "Pull over John! Pull over now!"

Mary screams as John pulls the car to the curb. The moment John brakes, both men are out of the car. Sherlock stumbles out, slams the door and looks at me, eyes wide, shaking his head. "I _did not_ need to see that." I start laughing at him. "I'm going to be mentally scarred for life after this. All that blood and the, the head!" He looks down at me. "And _you_ call me morbid! Why are you laughing at this?"

I begin laughing as I bury my face in his chest. "Oh God, your face!"

"It was horrific."

I laugh. "I may forgive you for not answering your phone."

"Thrilling." He looks down at me. "Shouldn't you be helping John and Mary? After all, Mary did help you."

"I'm not a nurse, remember?" I wrap an arm around his waist. "Besides, the baby will be here in a few moments."

Sherlock groans. "And they're not even that small at that stage." He looks down at me. "Come to think of it, you had to push approximately-

"Sherlock," I laugh as I glance back in the seat, John is working on Mary. "I had to do this four times, remember? Two sets of twins." He makes a face and I decide to take advantage of this moment. "Do you now see why I don't want to get pregnant again for a while at least?"

"Fine." He sighs. "You win, I won't get you pregnant just yet. But, I still want you regularly, so, you'll have to find some kind of…birth control plan."

I smirk. "I've been on one for months."

His eyes bulge. "What? Moreover, I didn't know about it? how did you," the sound of a baby crying distracted us for a moment. "find…one?"

I pat him on the shoulder. "I've got a wonderful nurse and doctor who drop in all the time."

He groans. "Of course, Mary." He shakes his head. "God, how am I ever going to work with her again after this?"


	4. 4: Parenthood

Chapter four: Parenthood

* * *

 _A week later,_

* * *

"I don't like her!" Sherlock Jr. whined. "She's smelly!"

"So were you, at one time." I reminded him

"She cries!"

"Sherlock," his father says. "stop whining to your mother and be nice to Rosie."

He lets out a huff and walks back over to his father's chair, hauls himself up into it and settles back into it with a plop. He crosses his arms and scowls. Linda is content with playing with Rosie's balloons, when she's not hugging or kissing Rosie's head. it took a lot of effort to pull her out of the pictures to just get one of Rosie with her parents.

"Has that come out?" Mrs. Hudson asks in exasperation as she looks down at her camera. "They never come out when I take them!"

Molly puts down her glass of champagne and reaches for the camera. "Let's have a look."

"Aww," Mrs. Hudson sighs. "she's so beautiful."

"Isn't she just?" Charles Walker asks from the corner where he's standing, looking at Molly. She blushes as he raises a glass to her.

Molly hands Mrs. Hudson back her camera. "Have another go."

She smiles at Molly before turning back to John and Mary. "What about a name?"

"Catherine." John supplies.

"Uh, yeah," Mary says. "we've gone off that."

John frowns in confusion. "Have we?"

She bobs her head. "Yeah."

"Ok." As always, John takes Mary's wishes in stride.

"Well," Sherlock says from where he's still glued to on his phone. you know what I think."

 _It's not a girl's name._ John and Mary reply in harmony.

Sherlock smiles, without even bothering to take his eyes up from his phone. John stands up and clears his throat. "Molly, Mrs. H. we'd would love you to be godparents."

Molly and Mrs. Hudson start laughing in delight. "I think you'd be a natural." Charles says as he approaches Molly to plant a kiss on her forehead. I keep waiting to hear wedding bells from them soon. Molly and Charles had both gotten their hearts done in by the Holmes's, so, they were taking things slowly.

I walk over to Sherlock as Mrs. Hudson and molly keep talking to Mary and John. I walk over to Sherlock and wrap my arms around his waist. "What are you doing?" he questions, still texting on his phone.

"Holding you." I reply as I look up at him. "Should I stop?"

He responds by giving me a peck on the lips before returning to his phone. "You may stay there." he sends the message and hastily starts typing off another one.

John walks over to Sherlock. "And, uh," John hesitates for a moment before saying. "you, too, Sherlock?"

"You too what?" he's still typing on his phone.

"Pay attention, you idiot." I mutter.

"Godfather? We'd like you to be godfather."

"God is a ludicrous fiction dreamt up by inadequate who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend."

I groan. "Sherlock, not now."

"Yeah, but there'll be cake." I grin. It's amusing how John thinks bribing Sherlock with sugar will work. "Will you do it?

Sherlock glances at him briefly, contemplating the sugar before saying. "I'll get back to you."

John nods resignedly and walks away. "We'll be there John." I say with a smile. "I promise."

I release Sherlock's waist and he turns sharply to me. "Did I say you could let go?" I shake my head no and wrap my arms back around his waist. "Good."

I roll my eyes. "It's like I'm hugging a palm tree." He groans and looks down at me in disbelief. "Well, it's true!"

"I'm going to-

"I know, I know." I roll my eyes. "No need to say things like that in front of other people." I sigh. "Could you get off your phone a bit, please, for me?" his phone goes off and I groan. "I really hate it when you take random pictures of me. you know that right?"

"Yes. Just something to add to my collection." I blush and roll my eyes. "What? You looked really cute."

I pat his cheek. "Put the phone away, please."

He sighs and tucks the phone into his back pocket. "Fine."

"Thank you."

He sighs and turns me around, pressing me against his back and wrapping his arms around my waist. "How's this?"

I smile. "Wonderful. Promise me you'll try to cut down on that phone."

"Lives are at stake Tammy."

I sigh. "Compromise?"

He pauses. "I'm all ears, but I can't promise I'll agree to your compromise."

"When we're having family oriented moments like this, you'll be off your phone and be present?"

He frowns. "Be present? I am present!"

"I could have said socialize," he made a face at me. "but I figured present would be better."

He shrugs, thinks it over and bobs his head. "Ok, we'll try to compromise."

And true to his word, Sherlock did cut back on his phone use, somewhat. The most humiliating moment was when we were at the christening and Sherlock decided to start texting behind his back. When the vicar asked if all the godparents were ready to help the parents of little Rosamond Mary in their duties as Christian parents. Sherlock accidentally hit the SIRI app who announced to the entire church. _Sorry._ _I didn't catch that._ _Please repeat the question._ It was certainly one of the more embarrassing, yet hysterical moments with Sherlock.

Life was getting more hectic. Sherlock and I had four children, he had cases and I had a lot of work at home to deal with. I actually retired from my club. I still owned it, just never sang there as I didn't have the mind. I didn't mind. I still sang, I just had a more wonderful and loving audience. My husband and my children.

"As ever, Watson, you see but do not observe." I pause in the hallway, balancing a huge load of laundry on my hip as I listen to Sherlock reprimanding John. "To you, the world remains an impenetrable mystery whereas, to me, it is an open book. Hard logic versus romantic whimsy. That is your choice. You fail to connect actions to their consequences. Now, for the last time," I poke my head in the doorway just as Sherlock picks up Rosie's rattle. My mouth drops as I realize that he's talking to her and not to John or Mary. "if you want to keep the rattle ...do not throw the rattle?" I grin as Sherlock hands Rosie her rattle. She gurgles with glee before throwing the rattle back into Sherlock's face. Sherlock winces and lets out a sigh just as she sneezes in his face. He groans and wipes his face and scowls at her. "Brat."

I shake my head. "She's not a Holmes." he looks up at me. "She can't help it."

Sherlock sighs. "I'm stuck babysitting."

"Having fun yet?" I question with a smile.

"It's horrible when it's not your own child." He holds out his hand to me. "Put that laundry down and come here."

I frown but do as he asks. "Why?"

He shrugs and pulls me into dance hold. "No reason." I stare up at him in semi-amazement as he starts slow dancing with me. "The kids are all tucked away upstairs and God knows when I'm going to get to hold you like this again."

I chuckle as I bring my arms around his neck. "You want something from me, don't you?"

"Tammy, I'm always going to want something from you. Just don't automatically assume that it's for my own personal gain."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "I don't blame you. After all, we're still working through things. I have to be more open."

"And I, apparently, have to stop being so suspicious. I do trust you; it's just that when you do things out of character, it throws me for a loop."

His brow as he wrapped his arms around my waist and shoulders. "So, spontaneous moments don't please you?"

I laugh lightly. "They do Sherlock; I just need to realize them for what they are. Spontaneous." I sigh as I rest my head against his chest. "I'm probably going to enjoy this for five more minutes before something happens."

He groans. "Don't say that, then it'll be shorter." Rosamond lets out a wail and we sigh. "See? I told you so." I pull away from him and go to Rosamond, picking up her rattle and handing it to her. She stops crying and looks up at me as Sherlock wraps his arms around my waist. "She's a monster."

"Well, she's a Watson," I remind him. "not a Holmes. she processes things differently." A stirring on the couch informs me that John and Mary are finally up. a wail upstairs tells me that one of the twins is awake now. I sigh. "I'll talk to you later Sherlock." I smile flirtatiously at him. "Thanks…for the dance."

"My pleasure." His phone goes off and he ignores it. "Here, let me help you."

I shake my head. "No, no, answer the phone, then come up." I trip over the basket and sigh. "Then, meet I'll walk you back downstairs so we can part our ways again."

He frowns. "Are you sure? Don't you want my help?"

"Of course I do. Just make sure it isn't an emergency before coming up to find me."

He nods as he reaches for my hand. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"No, Tammy," he studies me gently. "Are _you_ ok?"

I almost start to cry at the concern in his face. "I'm a mother Sherlock, to four wonderful children. I've got a husband who's a brilliant detective. I assure you, I'm ok."

He frowns. "You need a vacation."

Linda comes around the corner, shouting and her brown hair is an unnatural green. I nudge the laundry to the side and head up the stairs. "Where would I ever find the time for one?"


	5. 5: Back to cases

Chapter 5:Back to cases

* * *

 _A few weeks later,_

* * *

I come down the stairs, balancing a cranky Alexander on my hip. I'd left his favorite toy, a stuffed Tigger; down in Sherlock's flat and was now reaping the benefits of a Holmes temper tantrum for having to endure such stupidity at such a young age!

"Does daddy have a case?" Sherlock Jr. calls down the stairs. The kids have taken too much of an interest in Sherlock's work, but, what can one do? They were intelligent beyond their years and as long as the cases weren't too gruesome, I let them 'help' him.

"I don't know Sherlock, I'll find out." I push open the door to find Sherlock sitting in his chair and Greg moving towards the infamous questioning seat.

He turns towards me. "Hey."

"Hi Greg." I smile and hug him. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too." He plants a kiss on my cheek before turning his attention to Alexander, who's finally stopped squalling long enough to gaze at his 'uncle' with curious eyes. "Motherhood suits you very well."

"Doesn't it just?" Sherlock questions as he shoots me a warm look. "I've never seen Tammy look sexier."

I blush. "Sherlock, please. Stop it."

"Alright, but you do look sexy."

I clear my throat. "Tea, Greg?"

"Uhm, sure, thanks." He holds out his hands for Alexander. "May I?"

I nod. "Yes, thank you." I hand Alexander over and call up the stairs. "Sherlock, Linda! Uncle Greg is here!"

The kids let out a happy squeal and come thumping down the stairs. Greg grins, obviously pleased with his newest title. "The case, Lestrade?" Sherlock questions as Alexander fusses. "He wants that…stuffed tiger, it's on the couch."

"Thanks." Greg heads for straight for Tigger. Alexander face lights up and he begins chomping on Tigger's tail.

"Afternoon." John says as he enters the room, watching for the stampede of children coming down the stairs, out of the corner of his eye. "He says you've got a good one, Greg."

"Oh yeah." Sherlock and Linda pitter-patter into the room. Greg smiles as their faces light up in recognition. "Hi you two!"

"Uncle Greg!" Linda squeals as she tugs on his sleeve until he comes down to her level, allowing a very wet kiss on his cheek.

I shake my head at the scene as Sherlock gives a high five to his 'uncle' before going back to his father. I concentrate on the tea as the men discuss the case. As Greg promised, it was a very interesting case. Sherlock gets into his favorite prayer position, with Sherlock Jr. and Linda beside him, copying his style of sitting, but looking at their 'uncle' with attentive eyes.

Greg tells the tale in more of a dramatic tone than necessary, mainly for the children's benefit about how a father got a Skype message from his son. It was the father's 50th anniversary and he made a strange request of his father before ending the rather unusual call. After getting the tea together, it was time to take Alexander back up to the nursery for his nap, so, I missed part of it. Scott needed his nap as well, but he was always tired, so he was the easiest to put down.

"A week later... something really weird happens." Sherlock smiles again. "A drunk driver, he's totally smashed, the cops are chasing him, and he turns into the drive of the Welsborough house to try and get away. Unfortunately, the drunk guy survived; they managed to pull him out."

I sigh and shake my head. "As it is with the way of the world."

"But when they put the fire out and examined the parked car," Greg continues. "they found a body."

John leans forward in his chair. "Whose body?"

"Charlie Welsborough," he explains. "the son."

"What?" John and the children say in unison.

He frowns. "Do they really understand what I'm saying?"

"Apparently." Sherlock Jr. replies politely. "Please, continue?"

He looks at Sherlock Sr. and says. "That's a little creepy." At both Sherlock's scowl, he returns to the story. "The son who was in Tibet, DNA all checks out. The night of the party, the car's empty, then a week later the dead boy's found at the wheel." Sherlock chuckles in delight. "Yeah, I thought it'd tickle you."

"Have you got a lab report?" John asks as Greg reaches for his briefcase.

"Yeah, Charlie Welsborough's the son of a Cabinet minister," John and I nod understandingly. "so I'm under a lot of pressure to get results."

"Who cares about that?" Sherlock finally opens his eyes. "Tell me about the seats."

"The seats?" John asks.

I groan. "Oh dear, this is going to be another painfully obvious one, isn't it?"

"Yes. The car seats." Greg hands Sherlock a folder, which he begins to scan. "Made of vinyl ... two different types of vinyl present." I frown as Sherlock looks up thoughtfully. "Was it his own car?"

"Yeah. Not flash," he explains. "he was a student."

"Well," Sherlock leans back into his seat. "that's suggestive."

"Why?"

"Because vinyl's cheaper than leather." I point out.

Greg still is confused. "Er, yeah, right."

"There's something else." John points out.

"Yes?"

"According to this," John refers to the document. "Charlie Welsborough had already been dead for a week."

"What?" Sherlock says softly, his excitement growing.

"The body in the car," John frowns. "dead for a week."

"That makes no sense." Linda proclaims.

"Oh, this is a good one." He looks to Greg. "Is it my birthday? You want help?"

Greg inhales as he nods. "Yes, please."

"One condition." He states firmly.

"Okay."

"Take all the credit." Poor Greg, his face just drops at Sherlock's words. "It gets boring if I just solve them all." he frowns as he looks towards me, where I'm drying the dishes. "It's been a while since you've solved one."

"I'm a stay at home mom now," I remind him. "I've got no time to go around solving cases."

"Have you figured it out yet?"

"No, work with Greg."

"Yeah, you say that," Greg scratches his head. "but then John blogs about it and you get all the credit anyway."

"Yeah," John chuckles as he hands back the medical report. "he's got a point."

I can see Greg is somewhat frustrated as he shoves the papers back into the briefcase. "Which makes me look like some kind of prima donna who insists on getting credit for something he didn't do."

"Greg, I'm sure you don't." I assure him. "Prima donna is not an adjective I'd use to describe you."

John chortles. "Oh, I think you've hit a sore spot, Sherlock.

Sherlock looks baffled by Greg's attitude. Greg, however, is not done yet. "It's like I'm some kind of credit junkie."

John turns to me and bobs his head. "Definitely a sore spot."

I nod in agreement as Greg waves his hand in exasperation at Sherlock. "So you take all the glory, thanks," Sherlock is still bewildered as to why Greg is upset. "thanks all the same." He sighs in frustration. "Look, just solve the bloody thing, will you? It's driving me nuts."

"Anything you say, Giles." John, Greg and I all shoot him a glower. He smiles innocently. "Just kidding."

The instant Greg starts putting away his paperwork, Sherlock mouths to John. _What's his name?_

 _Greg._

 _What?_

 _Greg._

 _Oh._

Greg looks up suspiciously across to John and Sherlock, even though he missed this conversation, he suspects that something's up. "It's obvious, though," John says. "isn't it, what happened?"

"John, you amaze me." Sherlock states. "You know what happened?"

"Not a clue." I smirk. "It's just you normally say that at this point."

He smiles. "Well, then," He stands up and takes off his dressing gown as he goes to the hall to grab his coat. "let's help you solve your little problem, Greg."

Greg starts in surprise and smiles broadly in pleasure that Sherlock finally remembered his name. "You hear that?"

"I know!"

I dry my hands and open the kitchen door as Sherlock pulls on his suit coat. He smiles at me. "Come with me?"

I smile and beckon for him to come closer. "I'll walk you downstairs." Linda and Sherlock scamper past us, going for the stairs. "We'll all say goodbye together."

He catches my hands as I straighten his coat. "I said, come with me."

"Sherlock, I can't."

"Why?"

I sigh just as John and Greg come out of the flat. "You're at the beck and call of a screaming, demanding baby, woken up at all hours to obey his every whim." Greg looks pointedly at Sherlock. "Must feel very different." John smirks and lowers his gaze as he follows Greg down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, what?" I chuckle as Sherlock fails to catch the joke. We follow the other two down the stairs; I can feel Sherlock's brain churning overtime to figure out what John and Greg are talking about.

"Yes, well, you know how it is. All you do is clean up their mess, pat them on the head."

I can't help it, I start laughing as Sherlock demands. "Are you two having a little joke?"

"Never a word of thanks." John ignores him and continues. "Can't even tell people's faces apart."

"This is a joke," he asks as he turns to me. "isn't it?"

"Then it's all, 'Ooh, aren't you clever?" Greg says as John reaches for his coat in the closet. "You're so, so clever!'"

Sherlock stops on the bottom step and looks at me. "Is it about me?"

"Yes, darling, it is." he frowns in confusion.

Greg says something quietly to John who replies. "You know, I think that really might be it."

"No," he shrugs. "don't get it."

I laugh. "Darling, it doesn't matter. It's an insignificant joke, not relevant at all, I promise." Sherlock and Linda start arguing. "I think you better get in there before they rip your coat to shreds." He shrugs as I pat him on the back, earning a smirk from John and Greg.

Sherlock takes his coat from the squabbling three, going on four years olds. "Easy you two, it's just a coat."

"But it was my turn to get it!" Linda declares.

"She's lying!" Sherlock shouts.

He groans. "Fine, if you two want my coat, we'll make up a chart that'll say which days you two get to fetch my coat. Happy?" they both nod. "Good." he gets down to their level. "Come here." They both give him a hug. "Alright, we'll be back in a few hours. behave."

"Yes Sir!" they chime together.

I smile as he straightens up. "What?" he asks with a frown.

"Nothing. Just…taking a mental picture to remember later."

He steps forward, placing a hand on my waist. "Good or bad?"

"Always good." he leans forward and kisses me on lightly on the mouth. I pull away after a few moments. "Now, go on," I kiss him on the cheek. "Have fun and tell me all about it."

He frowns. "Aren't you coming? You always come on cases like this."

I bite my lip and shake my head. "I can't."

"But," he runs his finger under my chin. "you want to come don't you?"

"Yes, but I've got to watch the children."

He frowns. "Why?" Before I can answer, he shouts over my head. "Mrs. Hudson!"

My eyes widen as he spins me around and yanks my apron off me. "No! Sherlock, we can't impose!"

She comes in the room. "Yes Sherlock?"

He picks me up and I squeal in shock. "Ahh! Sherlock!"

Linda and Sherlock start cheering as Sherlock calls over them. "I'm kidnapping my wife for an hour, could you manage the children?"

"Put me down! Sherlock!"

Mrs. Hudson smiles brightly. "I'd love to! Thank you! I thought you'd never ask!"

"Bye mommy!" Sherlock and Linda call stairs, waving brightly. "Bye daddy!"

"Goodbye you two obey Mrs. Hudson and help her out." he says firmly. "Understood."

They nod emphatically. "Have fun!"

Sherlock shifts me slightly in his arms and hurries down the steps. "Right, let's go."

"Sherlock! I can't, the children-

"Will be fine!" he assures me as I practically start hyperventilating. "Mrs. Hudson's been longing to take care of them."

"Greg!" I call. "Sherlock's kidnapping me! I demand that you make him put me down."

He laughs as Sherlock heads towards the taxi with me. "Not this time."

"Sherlock!" he plops me into the taxi and immediately sits down beside me. "I cannot do this! This is irresponsible parenting!"

"Tammy," he pulls me close. "Mrs. Hudson is the most reliable babysitter one could find in the whole of England." I inhale and he places a finger on my mouth. "She's never had children, so she always relishes the opportunity to look after children. She knows both of our numbers, so if she runs into a problem, which I doubt, she will call us! Now, breathe!"

I inhale. "You're right."

"As always." He wraps his arm around me. "Now, what do you think happened?"

"I forgot to finish washing the dishes!"

He groans. "Tammy, relax and calm down." He shakes his head. "We'll have to get a date night in at some point, you're terribly on edge."

"I'm a mother Sherlock, we're always on edge!"

"Take some tips from Mary; she's more relaxed than you."

"No offense John, but Mary used to be an assassin, so taking care of a baby is a lot less pressure for her!"

"None taken. Not to mention," John points out. "Mary's only got one baby; you've got four children to look after."

I nod, pause for a moment and turn to Sherlock. "Date night? We haven't done that in a while."

"I know," he places his hand on my knee. "it'll be good for you to get out, alone. Shall we try for this weekend?"

I nod. "Try, being the operative word Sherlock, yes, let's do it."

"Dinner for two at Angelo's?"

I groan and kiss him quickly. "Keep talking Mr. Holmes."

"Candlelight and romantic music?" I nod. "Breadsticks?" I nod eagerly. "Some sort of dessert smothered in chocolate?" I nod again. "Then we come back home and I passion bash the living daylights out of you?"

"Stop talking, Mr. Holmes!" I blush crimson as John and Greg shift uncomfortably.

He laughs and whispers in my ear. "And?"

I bite my lip and whisper. "Yes." He kisses my neck, biting it a little. I gasp and squirm. "Any thoughts on the case?" I ask desperately. "Anyone?"

"Er, uhm, yeah." Greg says, drawing Sherlock's attention away from me. "Actually, no."

I clear my throat. "I think that he wasn't in the mountains at all. that's the only way the corpse could be there for a week. Since it was his father's 50th birthday, maybe he came back home and surprised him?"

Sherlock laughs and grin. "There she goes again! God, I love it when you do that!"

"Stop it Sherlock." I frown. "Am I right?"

"You'll find out when we get there. I promise."


	6. 6: Slowing down solves nothing

Chapter six: Slowing down solves nothing

* * *

"All I'm saying is that I deduced that the son was there for his father's birthday party!" I declare with a huff. Sherlock was grilling me about what I'd thought happened all the way up to the Welsborough's house. "How, the two types of vinyl and the body going unnoticed are connected, I have no idea! Unless he bought himself a new cover or something." Sherlock chuckles darkly. "Shut up you!"

Greg starts to fill Sherlock in on how he should behave himself. "Charlie's family are pretty cut up about it, as you'd expect, so go easy on them, yeah?"

Sherlock shrugs. "You know me."

I chuckle as Greg says dryly. "Yeah."

"That's what worries him, Sherlock." I point out.

John's phone rings, notifying him of a Skype call. It's probably Mary, he drops back a little bit to talk to her. "Hey, hello!"

I chuckle. "I'll attempt to keep him in line Greg." Sherlock throws an arm around my waist. "But I cannot make any promises."

"Got them, don't worry." John assures her. "Pampers; the cream you can't get from Boots." Sherlock frowns and looks over at John as he turns the volume up.

 _Yeah, never mind about that._ Mary says. _Where are you now? At the dead boy's house?_

"Yeah."

 _And what does_ _he_ _think? Any theories?_

"Uh, well," Sherlock frowns and looks over to John with a slightly disapproving vow. "I texted you the details."

 _Yeah, two different types of vinyl._

Sherlock reaches over and snatches the phone from John. "Hey!"

"How do you know about that?" he questions.

 _Oh, you'd be amazed at what a receptionist picks up._ She whispers in a conspiring tone. _T_ _hey_ _know_ _everything_ _!_

"Solved it, then?" Sherlock questions.

 _I'm working on it._

"Oh, Mary," he tsks his tongue disapprovingly. "motherhood's slowing you down."

 _Pig!_ Mary shoots off before I can reprimand him.

"Keep trying." He hands the phone back to John. "Tammy's almost solved it."

My mouth drops open in shock. "Seriously? I almost got it."

He nods. "Yeah. Don't look surprised, the riddler side of you is coming free once again." I smile; it's been a long time since he's called me his riddler. Years in fact.

 _You're making that up!_ Mary claims from the phone.

"Noope," he pops the 'P' on purpose. "John will verify she solved it when we come out of here, unless you can figure it out here and now." No answer. "I thought not." He rings the doorbell

 _So, what about it, then?_ Sherlock rubs my arm while he gazes around. After being let in, we make our way towards the parlor. _What, an empty car that suddenly has a week-old corpse in it? And what are you gonna call this one?_

"Oh, the ... uh," John shoots a look at Sherlock's back. "The Ghost Driver."

Sherlock stops in the hall and spins around to tell John tightly. "Don't give it a title." I roll my eyes, years after hundreds of blogs, Sherlock still hates the titles.

"People like the titles." John states.

Sherlock glowers at him. "I hate the titles."

John growls back. "Give the people what they want."

"No, never do that." Sherlock states. "People are stupid."

 _Uh,_ Mary defends from John's phone. _some_ _people._

Sherlock snatches John's phone again. "All people are stupid." He apparently has a second thought. "most people." I glower at him. "You are not most people, you're my wife and you're anything but stupid." I shrug, as if I'm not convinced. He kisses my forehead. "I'd never marry a stupid woman."

I roll my eyes and Greg speaks up. "Bizarre enough, though, isn't it, to be him?" He looks towards Sherlock. "I mean, its right up your strasse."

Sherlock throws him a dirty look and then heads towards guarded parlor door. The guard lets us into an interesting colored room. The room is an odd orangish pink, I couldn't decide if I liked it or not. The Welsborough's are sitting on a couch, but they stand when we approach.

"Mr. and Mrs. Welsborough," he shakes the wife's hand. "I really am most terribly sorry to hear about your daughter."

"Son." John instantly speaks up.

"Son." Instantly, Sherlock corrects his blunder while I shake my head slightly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Welsborough," Greg makes the introduction. "this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"Thank you very much for coming." Mr. Welsborough says. "We've heard a great deal about you. If anyone can throw any light into this darkness, surely it will be you."

"Well, I believe that I," something off to the right catches Sherlock's attention and I watch as he focuses solely on whatever it is he's noticed. "can."

I bite my lip and pray that he doesn't go into his mind palace while Mr. Welsborough is talking to him. if he doesn't, it'll be quite surprising. He's really engrossed in something. I look and see he's looking at a small table that has pictures of Margaret Thatcher on it. I'm afraid I zone out a little as I try to figure out what I'm missing.

" Sherlock?" John's voice brings Sherlock and I back into the room.

"Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Welsborough says.

Sherlock inhales and turns to the Welsborough's. "Sorry." He's not really focused. "You were saying?"

" Well, Charlie was our whole world, Mr. Holmes." he shakes is head. "I don't think we'll ever get over this."

Sherlock nods. " No, shouldn't think so." I groan at his indifferent, unemotional tone as he turns towards the table again. he clearly shocks the Welsborough's. "So sorry." He's unable to bear whatever it is he's seeing a moment longer. "Will you excuse me a moment? I just-

He turns and walks back to the table. I catch John's eyes and jerk my head in Sherlock's direction. "I'll just, um."

I clear my throat and approach them. "I apologize. My husband can often appear abrupt, cold or unfeeling, but I assure you that whatever he does, he does for a reason."

Mr. Welsborough's brows rise. "You're Mrs. Holmes." he holds out his hand to me. "A real pleasure, please, call me David."

"Alright, David." I clear my throat. "I'm sorry about this. He does this sometimes and I literally have no control over him at times."

"His mannerisms," his wife looks at Sherlock. "is he always like that?"

I give her an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid so. However, this is the housebroken Sherlock." I turn to see Sherlock engrossed in a quiet conversation with John. "Whatever he's doing, however bizarre it may appear, it is relevant. He always notices little, seemingly insignificant thing that quite often break the case wide open."

" What is this?" Sherlock asks from the table.

"Oh, it's a sort of shrine, I suppose, really." David approaches them. "Bit of a fan of Mrs. T. Big hero of mine when I was getting started."

Sherlock smiles as he pulls out his magnifying glass from his pocket. "Right, yes." He peers more closely at the table before straightening up and asking. "Who?"

"What?" David looks like he's been struck dumb.

" Who, who is this?" Sherlock repeats as he gestures to the table.)

"Are you serious?" David is now questioning Sherlock's competence.

"Sherlock." John says sternly.

I chuckle. "I assure you, he doesn't know. he doesn't stock up his memory on celebrities or political figures."

David seems to understand as he explains. "It's ... it's Margaret Thatcher, the first female prime minister of this country.

"Right." He starts to look at the table again but turns towards me with a question. "Prime minister?"

Now David's getting tetchy. "Leader of the government."

"Right." He looks again, notices me endeavoring to keep a straight face, asking John hopefully. "Female?"

" For God's sake!" John snaps as I start laughing. "You know perfectly well who she is. Tammy's from America and I bet, if she could compose herself long enough to tell us, she'd know who she is!"

David walks away as I attempt to swallow down my laughter. "I am so sorry!" I inhale. "That was…inappropriate, but…no, there's no excuse I should offer."

"Why are you playing for time?" John demands in a whisper.

"It's the gap." He explains to me. "Look at the gap. It's wrong. Everything else is perfectly ordered, managed." David heads back to sit by his wife. "This whole thing's verging on OCD." He bows his head in the direction of the Welsborough's. "My respects." He looks back to the table before pointing out things that we've missed with prove his theory. "This figurine is routinely repositioned after the cleaner's been in. This picture's straightened every day, yet this ugly gap remains. Something's missing from here, but only recently.

"Yes," David starts to explain. "a-

"Plaster bust." Sherlock beats David to the wording first.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Mrs. Welsborough is clearly exasperated by now. "It got broken. What the hell has this got to do with Charlie?"

"Rug" he states as he loudly as he clicks his magnifying glass closed.

"What?" the poor woman is still confused.

"Well, how could it get broken?" he questions. "The only place for it to fall is the floor, and there is a big, thick rug."

"Does it matter?" she questions.

"Mrs. Welsborough," John says smoothly. "my apologies. It is worth letting him do this."

"Is your friend quite mad?" she asks John.

"No," John says firmly with a perfectly straight face. "he's an arsehole, but it's an easy mistake."

Sherlock looks to me for my defense. "Sorry, can't help you there. you are one…occasionally."

"Look, we had a break-in." David explains. "Some little bastard smashed it to bits. We found the remains out there in the porch."

"The porch where we came in?" Sherlock asks.

"How anybody could hate her so much," I fight the urge to say something. She's a politician, everyone hates politicians! "they'd go to the trouble of smashing her likeness?"

"I'm no expert but, er," Sherlock studies the pictures. "possibly her face?" john closes his eyes in disbelief. At this point, the Welsborough's are growing more insulted by the second. "Why didn't he smash all the others? Perfect opportunity, and look at that one." He points to another picture. "She's smiling in that one."

"Oh, Inspector," Mrs. Welsborough says. "this is clearly a waste of time. I mean, if there's nothing more-

"I know what happened to your son." Sherlock turns around and finally addresses the Welsborough's before they have us thrown out.

David and his wife both spin around and stare at him hopefully. "You do?"

"It's quite simple, superficial, to be blunt." I stifle a groan. "But first, tell me: the night of the break-in. This room was in darkness?"

"Well, yes."

"And the porch where it was smashed: I noticed the motion sensor was damaged," I recalled him surveying the porch when we came upstairs. "so I assume it's permanently lit."

"How'd you notice that?" Greg asked.

"I lack the arrogance to ignore details." He snips slightly. "I'm not the police." I smack him and he goes. "Ow!"

"Sorry…not sorry."

"So you're saying," John asks. "he smashed it where he could see it."

"Exactly."

"Why?" John questions.

"I don't know." he says as he looks back the table. "Would it be any fun if I knew?"

"Maybe there was something inside it?" I offer.

"Mr. Holmes," Mrs. Welsborough pleads, her voice informs us she's bordering on the edge of tears. "please.

Sherlock inhales as he turns back towards them. "It was your fiftieth birthday, Mr. Welsborough; of course you were disappointed that your son hadn't made it back from his gap year. After all, he was in Tibet."

"Yes." David nods.

"No." Sherlock shakes his head.

Everyone is stunned by Sherlock's words. "No?" David repeats.

"The first part of your conversation was, in fact, pre-recorded video, easily arranged." I frown, not understanding where this is going. "The trick was meant to be a surprise."

"Trick?" David doesn't understand.

"Obviously." Sherlock states. "There were two types of vinyl in the burnt-out remains of the car. One the actual passenger seat; the other a good copy." I gasp as light dawns on me. "well, good enough, effectively a costume."

Both the parents start, but only David has the words. "You're joking."

"No, I'm not." Sherlock's tone is now somewhat sympathetic, for him. "What he wanted was for you to get close enough to the car so he could spring the surprise." He pauses for a moment. "That's when it happened." I can't be certain, of course, but I think Charlie must have suffered some sort of a seizure. You said he'd felt unwell?" his parents nodded. "He died there and then." I inhale sharply. What a horrible way for someone to lose their only child and not know. "No one had any cause to go near his car, so there he remained in the driver's seat hidden until." He pauses again. "When the two cars were examined, the fake seat had melted in the fire, revealing Charlie, who'd been sitting there quite dead for a week."

Emma breaks down and starts sobbing. "Oh, God!"

Though still reeling in shock, David reaches across to comfort her. Greg bows his head in respect. "Poor kid."

" Really, I'm so sorry, Mr. Welsborough, Mrs. Welsborough." He takes a hold of my arm and we walk rapidly out of the room. it's no surprise that when we make it to the front porch that Sherlock is examining the concrete, where the bust was smashed, with his magnifier. I lean against the marble pillar, waiting for him to finish.

I say nothing as John and Greg approach us. "This is where it was smashed." He states.

"That was amazing." Greg declares.

"What?" he asks without looking up.

"The car," Greg is still astounded. "the kid."

"Ancient history." Sherlock dismisses it. "Why are you still talking about it?"

"What's so important about a broken bust of Margaret Thatcher?" John asks.

He exhales sharply. "Can't stand it. Never can. There's a loose thread in the world."

"Yeah," John points out. "doesn't mean you have to pull on it."

"What kind of a life would that be? Besides, I have the strangest feeling."

Sherlock shakes his head as he stands up. "And those feelings," I state as I straighten up. "are never wrong."

Sherlock takes a hold of my hand and points to the black taxi that we'd arrived in. "That's mine." I stare at him as he nudges me towards the taxi. "You two take a ... bus."

"Sherlock!" I am shocked at him.

John laughs in disbelief. "Why?"

"I need to concentrate, and I don't want to hit you." he opens the door and says. "Get in now." I nod and he gets in after me, slamming the door. "The Mall, please."

I glance at him. "You won't hit me, if I talk, will you?"

He shrugs and tugs my legs up into his lap. "You know when to be quiet and let me think."

"So true." As he drums his fingers on my knees, I ask. "Is this one of those times?"

"Yes."

"Ok." I bite my lip.

"Say it." He says without looking at me.

"It's just that…I don't have any money on me." He frowns and I explain. "We're going to the mall."

"It's not that kind of mall."

* * *

 **Hi everyone! Just a note to let you know that hopefully the updates will be more frequent. I've been plotting out the chapter, up to 24, so I should be able to post more regularly. Hope everyone's enjoying it! (Be sure to have read the previous stories otherwise this won't make much sense to you!)**


	7. 7: Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes

Chapter seven: Mistakes, mistakes, mistakes

* * *

The mall turned out to be Mycroft's underground office at the Diogenes club. Getting in was extremely embarrassing as women weren't allowed, regardless of it being the twenty-first century. Sherlock very loudly demanded that I be admitted otherwise he'd deduce every secret that every man in the room had. Naturally, we were both taken to Mycroft's room.

Mycroft looks up at us in surprise. "Tammy, I see you got into a gentleman's club. How'd you manage?"

I rub my neck and sink into a chair. "Don't ask. Though most women would cheer at me succeeding at such a triumph, I myself, feel no such pleasure. Embarrassment, is a good word though."

Mycroft sighs. "Let me guess, Sherlock's managed to disrupt the…ambiance up there?"

I sigh and nod. "I doubt there was ambiance in there in the first place. The whole place is in an uproar."

Sherlock takes off his coat and hangs it over the back of my chair. "We're here for some information about Margaret Thatcher and update you in things that are going on in our lives." Sherlock hands over his phone. "So, you can turn off your bloodhounds."

"Bloodhounds?" Mycroft asks innocently, but fails at pulling it off.

"The shadows." He points out. "I've noticed them. Those baboons have been following us everywhere."

I nod. "It's sweet of you Mycroft, to want to protect us, but Sherlock and I aren't in any danger now, if we feel the need, we'll put the children in your protection."

"Please don't." he asks with a smile. "I really don't like them."

"They probably wouldn't like you either," I respond. "thanks to your father's influence. Now, back to Margaret Thatcher, please?"

"Margaret Thatcher?" Mycroft's brows rise. "I met her once."

Sherlock questions. "Thatcher?"

"Rather arrogant," Mycroft admits. "I thought."

"You thought that?!" Sherlock and I share a glance that tells we share the same thought. How could Mycroft, Mr. Superiority, actually think someone was arrogant?

Mycroft chuckles. "I know!" Mycroft glances back down at Sherlock's phone, which he's holding before holding it up to show Sherlock. "Why am I looking at this?"

Sherlock stops his pacing and frowns at his brother's ignorance. "That's her." he explains. "John and Mary's baby."

"Oh, I see." He looks back down at the picture on the phone. "Yes. Looks very," he pauses through a fake smile as he attempts to come up with a word that won't offend Sherlock and I. especially now that we're parents of four children. "fully functioning."

Sherlock shoots him a look of disbelief. "Is that really the best you can do?"

"Sorry." However, he really doesn't sound the least bit sorry. "I've never been very good with them."

"Babies?" Sherlock and I offer in unison.

"Humans." He says smugly as Sherlock steps forward and takes his phone back. He arches his brow. "Cute. Did you two practice that?"

"Do try to remember," I remind him tightly. "that you are an uncle to four children and you will occasionally have to interact with them." he makes a face, as if he's in pain. "They're helping Sherlock solve cases now," his brow arches, tattling that he's slightly impressed. "Sherlock Jr. and Linda, that is. Scott and Alexander are too young."

"Clearly. Judging by how they've been running you ragged." He surveys my appearance. "Has Sherlock been much help?"

I smile. "I assure you, my husband's always there when I need him."

He bobs his head. "Good."

"Moriarty." Sherlock asks. "Did he have any connection with Thatcher? Any interest in her?"

I smile a little bit as Mycroft attempts to answer Sherlock with a straight face. "Why on earth would he?"

"I don't know." he says somewhat tetchily. " _You_ tell me."

Mycroft leans forward to open a folder on his desk. "In the last year of his life, James Moriarty was involved with four political assassinations, over seventy assorted robberies and terrorist attacks, including a chemical weapons factory in North Korea." I sigh and shake my head. No wonder it had taken Sherlock two years to wrap things up. "And had latterly shown some interest in tracking down the Black Pearl of the Borgias, which is still missing, by the way," he looks at Sherlock hopefully. "in case you feel like applying yourself to something practical."

"It's a pearl." He states with disdain. "Get another one."

"It's a black one." I remind him. "They're very rare." He glowers at me and I add. "However, it is an original, boring case. Though, I fail to see why a smashed statue should gather so much attention."

"There's something important about this." Sherlock says in a somewhat dark, yet distracted tone. "I'm sure. Maybe it's Moriarty." Mycroft shifts in his chair as he studies Sherlock carefully. "Maybe it's not." I cross my legs and study Sherlock as he slowly starts to 'see into the future' for something to come. "But something's coming."

"Are you having a premonition," Mycroft asks drolly. "brother mine?"

Sherlock blinks and looks towards his brother with calculating expression on his face. "The world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other." Instead of his tone being the familiar rapid, it's extremely calm. "What we call premonition is just movement of the web. If you could attenuate to every strand of quivering data, the future would be entirely calculable, as inevitable as mathematics."

Mycroft smiles briefly before responding dryly. "Appointment in Samarra."

Sherlock and I both frown. "I'm sorry?"

"The merchant who can't outrun Death." He folds his hands and looks towards me. "He always hated that story as a child."

I nod. "I'm aware of that."

He turns back to Sherlock. "Less keen on predestination back then."

Sherlock narrows his eyes and glowers at Mycroft. "I'm not sure I like it now." He picks up his coat from the chair in front of the desk and starts to put it on, partly to hide his emotions. "Tammy, come on."

"You wrote your own version, as I remember." Mycroft recalls. "Appointment in Sumatra. The merchant goes to a different city and is perfectly fine."

"Goodnight, Mycroft." He turns towards the door, obviously keen on getting me out of the room before I hear what Mycroft has to say.

"Then he becomes a pirate, for some reason."

I eyed Sherlock carefully. "Hmm, can't imagine why."

"Keep me informed." He informs Mycroft as he guides me out of the room.

"Of what?"

"Absolutely no idea." He strolls out of the door without looking back at Mycroft.

I shake my head in dismay. "You two…are so childish at times."

He rolls his eyes. "No, we're not."

I roll my eyes as I laugh lightly. "One of these days, Sherlock Holmes, one of your descendants is going to be a great actor."

He makes a face. "Dear God, I hope not."

"Maybe he'll portray you in a film or on the stage!"

"Not happening Tammy. I'm not famous." We're both silent as we head out of the club back to the street. "Now, shall we stop talking nonsense and get our 90 minutes in before we head back home?"

I bite my lip before asking. "Can, we go home now Sherlock, please?"

He frowns as he hails down a taxi. "Why?"

I exhale. "We've left Mrs. Hudson for a while and I want to check on them."

"Tammy," he brushes my hair back from my face. "I promise, they're safe and well." I sigh and shift my weight. Sherlock is silent for a moment but then he exhales. "Alright, I'll take you home."

"If we see somewhere to eat along the way," I suggest. "we can grab something. I do want to spend time with you, but…not like this. It's…too sudden for me, I didn't have time to prepare anything while they left."

"I know, I understand." He sighs. "How did we end up this way?" he opens the taxi door for me and I get in. "You, a mother, babysitting four kids."

"I kinda married into it." I said with a smile. "This…mad man just…swept me off my feet and I've been under his control for many years."

"Yes," he said without blinking. "understandably so, since you've been driving him crazy for many years."

"You're Sherlock Holmes," the man in the taxi asks. "ain't you?"

"No." Sherlock states plainly without breaking eye contact with me. "I'm merely having an affair with his wife." His phone goes off, as does mine. he groans as he examines it. "I've got a case."

I sigh as I view my phone. Its Mrs. Hudson telling me Sherlock's got a client and asks if I can pick up some biscuits as we were both running low. "Indeed," I sigh. "it's a shame. I was hoping you'd shag me before my husband got a case."

His eyes danced as the taxi driver's eyes bulged. "Agreed, let's continue this affair when he's not so busy."

* * *

 _A few days later,_

* * *

I come up the stairs, humming 'City of Stars' from La-La-Land. One of the fewer modern musicals that I loved. I could have done without the language, but, how else were they going to satisfy this generation? After all, it's hard to imagine anyone voluntarily sitting down to watch a 'G' rated adult movie. Nope. Wasn't happening.

As I came up the stairs, I observed Greg talking to Stella Hopkins. She's been working with Sherlock a lot lately, bringing him cases of interest to him. Greg, has had an eye for her. since he and his wife divorced last year, he's had trouble getting back into the dating pool. I think they'd make a great couple. Stella was sweet and she liked Greg, all he needed to do was find his voice and ask her out on a date.

"So," Stella asks Greg and I pause on the stairs to listen. "how did, uh, you two first meet?"

"Oh, it was a case about, um," poor Greg stammers out. "ten years ago nobody could figure out. There was an old lady found dead in a sauna.

"Oh yeah?" Stella shifts her weight. "How'd she die?"

"Hypothermia."

Stella and I both frown as we ask in unison. " _What?_ "

The two of them are so in tune that they fail to hear my echo. "I know! But then I met Sherlock. It was _soooo_ simple-

On cue Sherlock throws the door open and glowers darkly at them. "Will you two please keep it down?" He slams the door shut. Then whirls it open again as his mind registers seeing me on the stairs. "Will you get in here Tammy?"

I smile at them. "Hi Greg, Stella, you two are welcome to come in."

"Not yet," Sherlock declares as he nudges me in. "I've got a client."

"Right." Sherlock shuts the door on whatever it is Greg was going to say.

Sure enough, upon entering Sherlock Jr. and Linda are sitting on the floor facing the infamous 'client' chair. The client looks quite uneasy by the children's staring. "Now," Sherlock heads back to his chair. "you haven't always been in life insurance, have you? You started out in manual labor." The man stammers and Sherlock waves him off. "Oh, don't bother being astonished. Your right hand's almost an entire size bigger than your left. Hard manual work does that."

"I was a carpenter," the man explains. "like me dad."

"And you're trying to give up smoking, unsuccessfully," I roll my eyes as I set the groceries on the counter and start pulling them out of the bags. "and you once had a Japanese girlfriend that meant a lot to you but now you feel indifferent about."

The man instantly becomes nervous."How the hell?" a tug on my skirt informs me that there's a child down there. I look and it's Sherlock Jr. "Ah. E-cigarettes."

"Yes Sherlock?" I whisper. "Don't you want to help your father?"

He shakes his head. "I can listen while I help."

I smile and hand him the milk. "Thank you."

"Not just that, ten individual e-cigarettes. Now, if you just wanted to smoke indoors, you would have invested in one of those irritating electronic pipe things, but you're convinced you can give up, so you don't want to buy a pipe because that means you're not serious about quitting, so instead you buy individual cigarettes, always sure that each will be your last. Anything to add, John?" I frown and turn to Sherlock to see that John's chair is empty and there's an orange balloon in its place. Sherlock, does as startled double take. "John?"

John pokes his head around the corner, "Yeah, yeah, listening."

"What is that?" Sherlock is still staring at the balloon.

"That is ... me." he explains as he comes into the room. "Well, it's a me-substitute."

Sherlock frowns at him. "Don't be so hard on yourself." He chuckles uneasily. "You know I value your little contributions."

"Yeah?" John questions. "It's been there since nine this morning."

"Has it?" Sherlock is surprised. "Where were you?"

"Helping Mrs. H with her Sudoku." John turns to me. "Scott and Alexander are doing fine. Alexander had a little slip, but, he fell on Scott."

"What about my girlfriend?" the man asks.

Linda pats Sherlock's leg causing him to ask. "What?"

"You said I had an ex." The man is too slow to notice that Sherlock is addressing his daughter.

"Oh," Sherlock hauls Linda up into his lap. She shifts several times until she's comfortable. "you've got a Japanese tattoo in the crook of your elbow in the name 'Akako.' It's obvious you've tried to have it removed."

The man looks down at his arm. "But surely that means I wanna forget her, not that I'm indifferent."

"Why not," Linda asks. "remove it?"

"Good question." Sherlock states. "Even a five year old child can tell why. If she'd really hurt your feelings, you would have had the word obliterated, but the first attempt wasn't successful and you haven't tried again, so it seems you can live with the slightly blurred memory of Akako, hence the indifference."

The man laughs in relief. "Sorry. I-I thought you'd done something clever." Sherlock Jr. drops a can of diced tomatoes and stares at the man wide-eyed. Sherlock turns to glower at the man. "No, no. Ah, but now you've explained it, it's dead simple, ain't it?"

John smirks as Sherlock inhales deeply, straightening up in his seat, getting ready to let the man have it. "Uh-oh." Sherlock Jr. whispers. "Is daddy mad?"

I shake my head. "Annoyed. Watch this."

"I've withheld this information from you until now, Mr. Kingsley, but I think it's time you knew the truth."

Mr. Kingsley visibly starts. "What do you mean?"

"Have you ever wondered if your wife was a little bit out of your league?" Sherlock doesn't give him a chance to answer. "Well, you thought she was having an affair. I'm afraid it's far worse than that. Your wife is a spy."

"What?!" the poor man nearly goes into shock.

"That's right." Sherlock starts going into his fast deduction tone. "Her real name is Greta Bengtsdotter. Swedish by birth and probably the most dangerous spy in the world. She's been operating deep undercover for the past four years now as your wife for one reason only. To get near the American embassy which is across the road from your flat. Tomorrow the US president will be at the embassy as part of an official state visit." Linda stares up at her father, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "As the president greets members of staff, Greta Bengtsdotter, disguised as a twenty-two stone cleaner, will inject the president in the back of the neck with a dangerous new drug hidden inside a secret compartment inside her padded armpit." At this point, I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. Padded armpit? Was this man really that dense? "This drug will then render the president entirely susceptible to the will of their new master, none other than James Moriarty."

"What?!" he gasps out.

Sherlock is on a roll, no stopping him. "Moriarty will then use the president as a pawn to destabilize the United Nations General Assembly which is due to vote on a nuclear non-proliferation treaty, tipping the balance in favor of a first strike policy against Russia. This chain of events will then prove unstoppable, thus precipitating," he slows down and says his final words dramatically. "War Three."

John chuckles. "Are you serious?"

"No, of course not." He stands up, tucks Linda into the crook of his arm and walks towards the door. "His wife left him because his breath stinks and he likes to wear her lingerie."

My mouth falls open. "Wow!"

"I don't!" John shoots him a look and he admits. "Just the bras."

"Get out." Sherlock declares as he opens the door.

"Creepy." Linda declares as Mr. Kinsley leaves the house.

Sherlock looks at her. "Do you even know what lingerie is?"

"Underwear."

Sherlock and I groan. "We're going to have to come up with another word substitute." He says.

I roll my eyes. "I give up." I resume tucking the final frozen items into freezer. "Why can't they be ignorant like me?"

"You're smart mommy," Sherlock Jr. declares as he struggles to carry a gallon of milk. "very smart."

Sherlock shuts the door. "Of course she is."

"So," John asks. "what's this all about, then?"

"Having fun." Sherlock and I reply in unison. He looks at me and clicks his tongue at me. "Told you, you were clever."

"Fun?" John asks.

"While I can."

There's a knock on the door and Hopkins comes in. "Sherlock-

"Borgia Pearl," he declares. "boring, go." She stammers, trying to plead her case. "Go!" Sherlock slams the door shut, but it opens again, causing him to groan. "Oh, this had better be good."

"Oh," Greg declares. "I think you'll like it."

"Thank you Sherlock." I say as I shut the refrigerator door. "You were a big help."

"Thank you mommy!"

He heads back into the room as Sherlock says. "Down you go Linda."

"Alright." Linda asks. "What's that?"

"That is the bust, isn't it?" John questions. "The one that was broken?"

I come around the corner to find Sherlock examining a bag with bits of the broken bust. "No, it isn't. It's another one," Greg explains. "different owner, different part of town."

"It's ugly." Sherlock Jr. declares.

"Ma-ma," Scott declares as he wobbles into the room, hanging on the wall. he slips and falls on his padded behind. "me tired!"

I sigh and move to squat by him. "I know, but, it's not time for your nap yet?"

"Close?" he asks, his green-blue eyes blinking sleepily up at me.

I smile. "I promise."

"Sherwock," he calls. "help me."

Sherlock Jr. moves to help him with a huff. "It's Sherlock."

"He's a baby," I reminded him. "he's learning."

" You were right!" I'm drawn back to the present by Greg's voice. "This is a ... this is a thing. Something's going on." I peer around the corner to see Sherlock staring at the bag intensely. "What's wrong?" Greg asks. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"I am pleased." He doesn't even look up.

"You don't look pleased."

He's still looking down at the broken bust. "This is my game face."

I smile at Greg. "Now you know how I feel in bed sometimes," Greg and John shift uncomfortably. "can never tell sometimes."

"And the game is on." Sherlock moves to get his coat, but freezes. "seriously Tammy?" he demands. "in front of the children?"

"I was just bringing you into focus darling," I study him for a moment. "I suppose you'll need the kitchen, right?"

"Yes. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't."

"I'll get the," Sherlock Jr. hiccups. "macroscope."

"Mickroscope!" Linda corrects him.

"It's actually," Sherlock explains. "called a microscope."

A wail from the 'nursery' sends me to our bedroom. Sherlock and I've made a small corner in our room for Alexander and Scott to play in when we're downstairs. Scott and Alexander were slapping at each other and I got them to stop. They were both arguing over a car, until I put it in Sherlock's nightstand and shut it. a few moments later, they were back to being best friends. I played with them a bit before they collapse on the floor, dead asleep. I move them to their beds, which Sherlock brings down for me every morning, so I don't have to make constant trips up and down the stairs checking on them.

Once they're tucked in bed, I head to my kitchen and find it wrecked. There's a huge mess strew all over the kitchen table with Sherlock sitting at it. "Another two have been smashed since the Welsborough one," Greg says as Sherlock studies a slide sample. "one belonging to Mr. Mohandas Hassan."

"Identical busts?" John questions.

"Yeah," Greg says as the kids nod their heads. "and this one to a Doctor Barnicot in Holborn. Three in total." He looks down at his watch. "God knows who'd wanna do something like this."

"Yeah, well some people have that complex, don't they? An idee fixe?" He looks pointedly at Sherlock. "They obsess over one thing and they can't let it go."

"No, no good." Sherlock is in his own little world, oblivious to them. "There were other images of Margaret," he pauses and looks upward, vexed to find himself remembering her name. "Margaret?"

Poor John is growing exasperated. "You know who she is."

Sherlock continues as if he hasn't even heard John. "Thatcher present at the first break-in. Why would a monomaniac fixate on just one?" Sherlock picks up a piece of plaster with his tweezers and his eyes widen in delight. "Ohh!"

"What?" John asks.

"Blood."

"Eww." Linda makes a face as Sherlock starts to look at the plaster through the lenses.

"Quite a bit of it, too." He looks up from his scopes long enough to address Greg. "Was there any injury at the crime scene?"

"No."

"Then our suspect must have cut themselves breaking the bust." Sherlock puts the blood-stained piece into a small plastic bag. "Come on."

"Holborn?" Greg asks.

"Lambeth."

"Lambeth?" Greg sounds confused and startled. "Why?"

"To see Toby."

"Ah, right." John bobs his head before asking. "Who?"

"You'll see."

"Right." John turns to Greg. "You coming?"

"No." Sherlock cuts off Greg. "He's got a lunch date with a brunette forensic officer that he doesn't want to be late for." He gets up and starts putting on his jacket.

"Who told you?"

"The right sleeve of yours, plus the formaldehyde mixed with your cologne," he looks disgusted while he pulls on hid coat. "and your complete inability to stop looking at your watch."

"Sherlock!" I say warningly.

He changes his tune instantly. "Have a good time."

"I will." Greg waves at me "Bye."

"Bye Greg, remember, have fun and be yourself." I smile as I return his wave. "She's a good match for you."

Sherlock picks up his phone and starts texting as Greg walks out the door. "Trust me, though, she's not right for you."

Greg stops, unsure he's actually heard that. "What?"

"She's not the one!" Sherlock repeats loudly.

"Well, thank you," Greg says sarcastically. "Mystic Meg."

"Trust me," Sherlock declares. "you can do much better than her Greg."

"Sherlock, it's his life and his heart," I point out. "let him decide what he wants to do with his life."

Greg shoots me a grateful look and heads out of the kitchen. As soon as the door shuts, John shifts closer to Sherlock and asks. "How'd you work all that out?"

"She's got three children in Rio that he doesn't know about." Sherlock responds just as quietly.

"Are you just making this up?"

Possibly." Sherlock turns to me and plants a kiss on my cheek. "I'll be back in a few hours Tammy. The case is almost solved. I just need to catch the bad guy."

I nod. "Good for you."

"Thanks." He kisses me quickly on the mouth with a smile. "Don't wait up for me."

I roll my eyes. "I always do, you know."

"Yeah," he winks at me. "I love that about you."

I blush. "Go on with you now."

* * *

 _Hours later,_

* * *

Something was wrong. I didn't know how or why, but something was wrong. It was now nighttime and the kids had all fallen asleep waiting for Sherlock to get back here. But he hadn't, he'd missed dinner, wasn't responding to my texts, so, I'd no way of knowing if he was hurt or anything.

 _He's not hurt._ I told myself over and over again. _he's working the case and he'll let me know was son as he's done._

As soon as I thought that, my phone rang. I answered it without looking at the id. "Sherlock?"

 _Tammy_ , he sounded exhausted. _I've made a mistake and something's happened. Mary's gone._

* * *

 ** _Guest: Your wish is my command!_**


	8. 8: Uncle Mycroft

Chapter eight: Uncle Mycroft

* * *

I froze in place, unsure I'd actually heard those words pass his lips. "I'm going to assume that you mean that you missed a deduction." I say calmly. "You don't make mistakes."

 _This once I did._ He exhaled and made a sound, as if he was shaking his head. _Those smashed busts….they involve Mary._

"Mary?" my blood chilled. "How?"

 _It's a long story Tammy,_ he sounded groggy. _There's a story after her._

"Story?" I frowned. "Sherlock? What do you mean?"

He groans. _I mean assassin, one of her old co-workers. Mary drugged me, I'm a little…off, but no matter._

"Wait a minute!" I proclaimed. "Mary drugged you? Again!?"

 _Tammy, I'm fine._

"You're definitely incoherent, but go ahead, insist you're fine, but I know better." I spoke my next thought. "We need to call Mycroft."

 _No._

"Sherlock, if there's an assassin after Mary, then the children could become targets. They should be somewhere safe until all of this is over."

He was silent for a while. _I'll think about this, but, you have a point._

"Don't I always?" I clear my throat. "Look, you get here as soon as you can and I'll call John."

 _I'm going to see Mycroft. I'll be back soon, but I'm going to have to catch a flight to somewhere in the Middle East._

My brows in surprise. "What?"

 _Mary's heading back to where it all started. You and the children need to stay here._

"But Sherlock," the phone line clicked and I looked down at the phone to see that Sherlock had indeed hung up on me. "Really?" I said to the phone. "Well, Mr. Holmes, shall we play that game now?"

* * *

I made my way through the halls with Sherlock and Linda in tow. Those two had heard me asking Mrs. Hudson to watch the kids for a bit and demanded to come with me. After almost ten minutes of arguing, I gave up and dragged them with me. They were very silent in the taxi, but did apologize for arguing with me and said they'd accept whatever punishment 'daddy' and I came up with. These two, had a sick way of knowing when something was wrong and now, were determine to be a part of it.

We entered the club and made our way to Mycroft's office. Before we even came around the corner, we could hear Sherlock and Mycroft deep in conversation. "Agra? A city on the banks of the river Yamuna in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh, India. It is three hundred and seventy-eight kilometers west of the state capital, Lucknow."

"What are you," Sherlock demands in irritation. "Wikipedia?"

"Yes." He says with his know-it-all smile that irritates Sherlock. He notices us behind him and his brows rise. "What is this, Sherlock?"

Sherlock frowns. "What?" he turns around as a sleepy Sherlock approaches him. "What are you all doing here?"

"You'll see shortly." I reply as little Sherlock climbs up into his father's lap, burrows his face in his jacket and exhales. "Resume your business."

Linda moves towards Mycroft and stares up at him in morbid fascination. He looks down his nose at her. "What… is this?"

"Your niece," I reply. "Linda."

She makes a face and asks. "Uncle Mycroft?"

Sherlock nods. "Unfortunately, yes." She sighs and looks up at him and attempts to climb up into his lap, but decides against it when Mycroft draws away from her. She sticks out her lower lip and pouts. Sherlock sighs. "Linda, come here."

She shakes her head and continues looking up at Mycroft. I look apologetically at Mycroft. "At least they're not screaming at the sight of you."

"Back to business, Sherlock." Mycroft insists. "I didn't come here to see your drowsy, miniature duplicates, contaminating my office."

"AGRA is an acronym." Sherlock explains as Linda attempts to crawls up into Mycroft's lap again.

"Oh, good. I love an acronym." Mycroft's voice positively drips with intrigue, but he keeps glancing down at a struggling Linda out of the corner of his eye. "All the best secret societies have them."

"Team of agents, the best," Sherlock studies Mycroft. "but you know all that."

"Of course I do." He says sarcastically. "Go on."

"One of them, Ajay, is looking for Mary, also one of the team."

Indeed?" Mycroft asks. "Well, that's news to me."

"Is it?" Mycroft just lowers his head and shoot Sherlock a non-telling look. I personally think he doesn't know but with Mycroft, you can never tell. "He's already killed looking for that memory stick. AGRA always worked for the highest bidder. I thought that might include you."

Mycroft frowns. "Me?"

"Well, I mean the British government or whatever government you're currently propping up."

"AGRA were very reliable; then came the Tbilisi incident." Linda walks around Mycroft, looking for another way up into his lap. I don't know why she's behaving like this. She normally doesn't insist on getting into someone's lap, especially when I'm available. "They were sent in to free the hostages but it all went horribly wrong. And that was that. We stopped using freelancers."

"Your initiative?"

"My initiative. Freelancers are too woolly; too messy. I don't like loose ends – not on my watch." with a wiggle and a jump, Linda winds up in Mycroft's lap. He starts a bit."Sherlock, for God's sake."

"Linda." She corrects him as she swings her feet up in the same position Mycroft has. She exhales and folds her hands, leaning back against her uncle's chest. She wiggles into a comfortable position. "Ok."

Mycroft glowers at Sherlock. "Do something, with your offspring. Now!"

"Linda," Sherlock explains. "come here. Uncle Mycroft doesn't like you."

She shrugs. "I don't care daddy. I like him."

"Oh, for God's sake." Mycroft groans in disdain. "Why?!"

"You're like a….stuffed dragon."

Mycroft glowers down at her. "I may roast you."

Sherlock turns to me. "You've been reading her fairy tales, haven't you?"

"Maybe." I can't help it; I raise my cell phone to them, ready to take a picture. "Linda, Mycroft." The two turn and look at me right as I snap several pictures. "Here be dragons."

Linda smiles as Mycroft groans. "For God's sake Tammy!" he glowers at Sherlock. "Is there anything else? Can we please move on before I start feeling domesticated?" Linda reaches up and pats his chin. He jerks his head out of reach. "Please!"

Sherlock reaches for a notebook on the desk. "There was something else; a detail, a code word." He writes something down on the notepad and holds it up for Mycroft to read.

Mycroft frowns as he leans forward to read the notepad. ""AMMO?" his leaning forward does little to dislodge Linda, to his disdain.

"It's all I've got."

"Little enough."

"Could you do some digging, as a favor?"

"You don't have many favors left." He says with a smile.

"Then I'm calling them all in." Sherlock says firmly without blinking, informing Mycroft that he won't be dissuaded.

Linda gives Mycroft a little poke. "Aunt Mary needs help."

He looks down at her, this time, slightly in curiosity. He probably wasn't expecting her to understand the gravity of the situation. "Fine. And if you can find who's after her and neutralize them, what then?" he holds Sherlock's gaze. "You think you can go on saving her forever?"

Sherlock shrugs and replies nonchalantly. "Of course."

"Is that sentiment talking?" Mycroft questions.

"No," he glowers at him. "it's me."

"Difficult to tell the difference these days."

"Told you," Sherlock reminds him. "I made a promise, a vow." He glances at me. "I'm not breaking those anymore."

I smile at him. "All right," Mycroft swings his feet off the desk. Linda starts to fall forward, but he actually braces her. Well, by bracing, he grabs a hold of her nightdress with two fingers and pulls her back. "I'll see what I can do." He leans forward and folds his fingers together. His pose, was slightly comical due to Linda being in his lap. "But remember this, brother mine: agents like Mary tend not to reach retirement age. They get retired in a pretty permanent sort of way."

Linda looks up at him. "Daddy won't let aunt Mary die."

Sherlock's tone is determined as he addresses Linda and Mycroft. "Not on my watch." He turns towards me. "Now, what are you and the children doing here?"

"Well, they wanted to know what was going on. I was too tired to argue with them."

Sherlock frowns at hem. "Argue? You're supposed to be going what your mother says."

They bob their heads. "We disobeyed mummy." Sherlock says in a sleepily apologetic tone. "We need to be…punished, when we get home."

"I volunteer," Mycroft says. "to help administer it."

"You'll get your chance Mycroft." I explain calmly. "You see Mycroft; they'll be staying with you while we go after Mary."

"What?!" Sherlock and Mycroft ask in unison. "No!"

Sherlock Jr. glowers up at Mycroft. "I hate him."

I give him a smack on the hand. "Don't talk to your uncle that way." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Or roll your eyes at me young man. honestly! Sherlock!"

"I like him!" Linda proclaims.

"Oh," Sherlock shakes his head in disapproval. "proof there that she'll never be allowed to date. She's a poor judge of character."

"She can see past petty childhood bias." I shoot back.

"back to the subject at hand." Mycroft declares. "Why, am I being saddled with these four…creatures, Sherlock?"

"Because you're their uncle, unfortunately and no one else is available." I explain.

Sherlock shakes his head. "I'm sure we know other people more capable than him."

"Sherlock," I explain patiently. "we will be dealing with assassins. Mycroft's property is probably one of the most secure places on the planet." He nods in reluctantly agreement. "John, will probably be going with us and he'll probably want to send Rosie along with our four." Mycroft groaned audibly. "I don't think Mrs. Hudson is the best candidate to leave the children with."

Sherlock nods. "She is getting on in years now." He sighs and thinks for a minute before turning to Mycroft. "Sorry, Mycroft, looks like you're babysitting."

"What?" Mycroft looks as if we just asked him to suck worms off the floor.

"We'll only be gone for a little while." Sherlock explains. "A few days at most."

He looks at them. "What do you do with children?"

"Sherlock and Linda can pretty much occupy themselves. They love helping to solve cases, but they love hearing stories, especially the story about death in Samarra."

That catches Mycroft's attention and he smiles, a little smile and somewhat maniacal in my opinion. "Really?"

Sherlock groans. "Tammy."

"Yes, Sherlock tells it to them every night." I know I've got Mycroft's reluctant interest. "I dare say you know a few more stories."

He looks at Sherlock and shrugs. "Fine, I'll watch them and tell them a story every night."

"Thank you very much Mycroft. I've already left a to-do-list with your secretary. " his brows rise in surprise. "it'll take us a few hours to schedule a plane trip, so, we'll drop them off right before we head to Heathrow."

"Tammy-

I cut Sherlock off. "If you get lost, or need advice, just text me." I clear my throat. "Sherlock and Linda are going on four in a few months. Scott and Alexander are both 13 months and two weeks now."

"And their age is relevant why?"

I smirk. "In case you need to do some research on how they'll behave, you'll need their ages. Scott and Alexander are both now just starting to dream, so, they may wake up crying."

"Try not to give them nightmares." Sherlock sneers.

"They're also very curious at this stage and imitate things, like monkeys. They're also trying to learn how to speak as well. they're also trying to figure out how to walk, so, don't be too surprised if they fall down."

"And," Sherlock adds. "makes sure everything is locked up where they can't reach it."

"Are you really leaving us," Sherlock Jr. asks. "with him?"

I sigh and walk over to Sherlock. "Honestly, you're a horrid influence at times husband." I place my hand on his shoulder. "You both know that aunt Mary is in trouble. Someone is trying to kill her. your father and I have to leave. It's not safe for you on your own."

"Can't you stay with us?" he asks.

"Do you remember," I look to my husband, even though I'm addressing our son. "when daddy was gone for two years?" he nodded reluctantly. "Your father promised me, that he'd never do that to me again."

"It'll just be a little trip." Sherlock adds. "Only a few days."

"They're a team." Linda says practically, surprising us for a moment. "They'll be right back. Nothing will happen."

Sherlock Jr. is silent for a long moment before nodding solemnly. "Ok. Go ahead."

"Thank you." Sherlock says.

"I don't like it," he tacks on for good measure. "I don't like him, but go ahead."

"Do you like uncle Mycroft, mommy?" Linda asks. "I know daddy doesn't."

Both of my Sherlock's studies me closely as I answer. "Well, Mycroft does have his moments. He's very intelligent." Mycroft's eyes widen slightly as he shoots Sherlock a smirk of satisfaction. "He's a little cold at times and lets you think that he's unemotional. But he is also very protective of his family, but he'll never admit it.."

"I'll warm him up!" she offers. "Daddy says I'm always warm!"

I laugh lightly as Sherlock grin at me. "That's right. Now," I walk over and take Linda from Mycroft who sighs in relief. "you two will help Mycroft look after each other? He's never had children before, so, it might be a bit scary for him."

"I beg your pardon." Mycroft sniffs indignantly "Scary?".

Sherlock jumps in. "He's also alone a lot, doesn't spend much time around people.."

"We'll keep him company." Sherlock Jr. declares.

"Don't," Mycroft starts to beg. "please, don't."

"Now, I've already called your parents and they will make sure to stop in once in a while if you have any problems. Now, I'm assuming you have my cell phone?"

"No." Mycroft says too quickly. I arch a brow and shoot him a look. he sighs and says. "Yes."

"You do?!" Sherlock asks. "Why?"

"Irrelevant Sherlock." I sigh. "We've got to get home now. Tomorrow, things are going to start happening. Should we call John?"

He shakes his head. "Mary's already written him a note and is already out of the country. Why wake him up? he won't be able to do anything but worry."

"You're right." I sigh as we head towards the door. "Let's go."

"Goodbye!" Linda says cheerfully. "See you tomorrow uncle Mycroft!"

Sherlock closes the door on Mycroft's groan.

* * *

 _The following morning,_

* * *

Leaving my children behind had been difficult. To be honest, I probably should have stayed home with them, but I was now a member of the team. I wasn't going to be left behind or out of anything anymore. Sherlock had promised me that. true, last night we had discussed the dangers of me traveling with him on this case. Sherlock gave the dangers a 5 out of 10, so, we both agreed that I could go with him. it was new to him, so, he didn't really like it, but he'd adapt.

Saying goodbye to my children at Mycroft's house was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I knew it was for a few days, but still…I loved them dearly. Linda and Sherlock were so excited to see uncle Mycroft that they practically pushed Sherlock and me onto the plane. However, as they take after their father, they could have been acting and probably erupted into the tears the moment the plane took off.

John, on the other hand, had volunteered to get molly and Mrs. Hudson to watch Rosie. Molly, mainly watched Rosie because she wasn't really known in the Holmes circle. The homeless network knew her, so, it was easy for them to keep nay eye on her. John, had turned down Mycroft's offer to have Rosie at his house, but I knew it was because of the fight he'd had with John so many years ago. Well, technically, it wasn't a fight and John had almost beaten him up to a pulp.

John had called Sherlock and me to say that Mary had left a note for him. he was upset and I was beginning to think that maybe there was something going on with John and Mary. They weren't quite as they were before John found out Mary was an assassin, but they were getting back to that sense of normal. It would always be hard for John. Mary, wasn't his ideal woman, but he loved her to pieces, even when she cut him out of life changing decisions like this.

 _My darling,_

 _I need to tell you this because you mustn't hate me for going away. I gave myself permission to have an ordinary life. I'm not running. I promise you that. I just need to do this in my own way. but I don't want you and Sherlock hanging off my gun arm._

 _I'm sorry, my love. I know you'll try to find me, but there is no point. Every move is random and not even Sherlock Holmes can anticipate the roll of a dice._

 _I need to move the target far, far away from you and Rosie, and then I'll come back, my darling. I_ _swear_ _I will._

"Seatbelt, Tammy."

I looked up from John's letter to see the flight attendant standing over me. "Oh, sorry, I didn't hear." I look to Sherlock. "how are we going to trace her?"

"I already know where she's going." He declares as he hands the letter back to John, who's a seat behind us. "She's already made several random flights without stopping."

I frown. "And, you know this how?"

He shrugs. "I put a tracer in the flash drive. But I already found out from Mycroft when their last mission was, so, she's going there."

"To end it, where she should have ended it." my phone goes off and I pull it out of my purse to see who's' texting me. I smirk. "Speak of the devil, here's your brother."

"God, what does he want?"

"I've a hunch." I chuckled as I read the text. _how do you get one of twins to be quiet?_

I laugh as does Sherlock. _Alexander needs Tigger, he won't sleep unless he has him. Scott, will quiet down once Alexander does._

 _Which one's Alexander?_

 _Ask Sherlock or Linda, but judging by your text, he's probably the one trying to wake the dead._

 _You've got Sherlock there._ an instant later. _Never mind. Did you have to name your son after my brother?_

 _Yes! I thought he was dead because of you. remember!?_ Lips on my neck caused me to smile. "Reading my texts messages?"

"How does Mycroft have your cell phone number?" he asks. "Did you give it to him?"

"Of course I didn't." I sigh and tuck my phone back in my purse. "He 'owns' the British government. Remember? It's not that hard for him to figure out."

"I don't like him, having your number."

"Me neither, so, I've put him in my emergency contacts. If something big happens, and I can't get a hold of you someday, he'd be the next one you'd want me to dial. Correct?"

He exhales and nods begrudgingly. "Yes."

I swing my legs up over his. "I hate flying."

He nods. "Because of your mother?" I nod silently. He massages my calves. "It must have taken a lot of courage to get on a plane and fly to London."

"I was running Sherlock," I said quietly. "you don't think when you're running."

"You knew _exactly_ where you're going. You may not have known it at the time, but you did. The heart and head are programmed to guide you home."

I sigh. "Are you sure about that?"

He tilts my chin up. "You're here with me, aren't you? and home, I'm told, is anywhere as long as you're with the person you love."

I smile as light breaks over me and I grip his wrist loosely. "Yes, that is true."


	9. 9: Guilty pleasures

Chapter nine: Guilty pleasures

* * *

"I hate this." I sigh.

"What," Sherlock questioned as he ran a wet hand down my shoulder. "taking a bath with me? Since when?"

I blushed and shook my head. "No! I hate this, the waiting, I mean."

It had taken a while for me to adjust to the fact that my children were in Mycroft's care. Sherlock's parents had moved temporarily into Mycroft's estate to help take care of them, so, my concerns weren't as horrid as they'd been earlier. The flight, had been a bit scary for me, but Sherlock actually gave me some comfort. He held my hand when it got a little bumpy, or he held my feet in his lap when I couldn't get comfortable enough to sleep. He kept a hold of my arm every second until we arrived at Karim's. It had been a while since Sherlock had gotten to be a bit protective of me and I was lying if I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it.

He shrugs and tilts his head to the side slightly. "I can accept that. Now, try to imagine that this is our second honeymoon."

I roll my eyes as he pulls me closer to him. "Easier said than done."

"Then, imagine that it's our first," his voice and low and hoarse as he runs his hand down my hip. "and we're in that Jacuzzi, with that…fishy exterior." I snort lightly as I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest. "You in that…red bikini."

I smile before saying. "Recite something."

I can feel him frown for a second. "Recite what?"

"Anything. It's…been a while since you've said a love letter to me."

"It has." He's silent for a while, combing through his mind palace for a love note he's tucked away somewhere. "If life is often an amalgam of questions without answers and meaningless facts," I groan. Only he could tuck a love letter like that away in his mind. I can feel him glower at me. "I haven't finished yet, so do be quiet."

"Sorry."

"I would like to sit beside you in a special way. I wish that when you are watching me," he runs his hand from my hip up to my rib cage. "to not born in your soul nor questions, nor gestures, just a deep harmony silence. That feeling, which the beliefs can give you, that the one you are watching is part of you. That part to which you shouldn't agitate to please her, because she likes you, however you would be. That part who is always with you, not to feel the pains for you. But to always can say to you that everything will fine….because I love you."

I smile. "Who wrote that?"

He shrugs. "Never could find out. It's floating around online or something."

"I knew it. You had to Google it." I shake my head. "Who else but you could find a poem and make it sound so scientific?"

"Well, as you said brainy is the new sexy." I flush slightly and he grins. "And, I was seeing how it brainy clashed with romantic, not too well this time around."

"I liked it though."

"Good." he leans forward and kisses me on the mouth quickly. "Mary should be here within 40 minutes. We should get out now."

"You go ahead," I sit up and he climbs out of the tub. "I'll get out in a few minutes."

"You'll be pickled."

"Well," I lean onto the edge of the tub, lazily observing my very wet husband dry off. He's filled out a little bit. His clothes fit a bit snugger now, only because he was packing a little more muscle. "I haven't actually had a wash yet, have I?"

He shrugs as he wraps the blue towel around his waist, notably hanging very low around his waist before he starts toweling his hair. "Well, it's not my fault."

"Hmmm," I looked him up and down slowly. "it could be."

He stops, turns and peers under the towel at me at the suggestiveness in my voice. "Mrs. Holmes."

"Yes, dear?"

"Dear is my nickname for you." He says without blinking as he steps forward towards me. "Are you aware, that you're unabashedly ogling me?"

"Obviously." I smiled. "What are you going to do about that…Mr. Holmes?"

The glint in his eyes proved that he intended to do something about it. He smirks as he holds out his hand for me. "Get out of that tub, and I'll show you."

* * *

I shook my head as Sherlock straightened his coat one more time. "See you downstairs."

"Hopefully!" I called after him as he opened the door. He laughed at me before exiting our room. "Smug bastard." I muttered as I got up from the bed, turning to examine my back, which was still slightly red from the straw rug, which Sherlock had taken me on. I smiled for a moment, reveling in the pleasure that was slowly fading from me. As that lovely feeling faded, a feeling of guilt began to cover me. After all, I was a mother. I had left all four of our children in London to go with my husband, to help Mary. And what were we doing? Frolicking in tubs, having sex on the floor or against the walls. Not very professional….unless you were James Bond.

My phone rang, distracting me from these thoughts for a few moments. Recognizing the personalized, obnoxious little skit of doom, 'She's gonna kill me twice' from 'Smash' ringtone, I picked up my phone. "Hello Mycroft."

 _You and Sherlock were just having sex, weren't you?_ He questioned.

I rolled my eyes. "Sherlock's not here, so, you got it wrong. Nice try."

 _The children want to say good night to you._

"Mycroft!" I snapped at him. "We don't discuss sex in front of the children!"

 _Uncle Mycroft,_ Sherlock Jr's voice comes over the phone. _Already explained the basics of how men and women copulate by-_

"Fascinating Sherlock." I cut him off very quickly. I was going to kill Mycroft as soon as I was back in London. I was now questioning my parenting skills about leaving my children with their stupid uncle. "However, don't say anything more."

 _I told you so!_ Linda crowed. _You're in trouble. Both of you!_

 _But it's science!_ Sherlock whined.

 _You're too young!_ Linda and I say at the same time.

 _Dad wouldn't care!_

 _Well, Mom's not dad!_

"Alright you two, enough." I smile and shake my head. "I love you both so much and I'll deal with Uncle Mycroft when I get home."

 _In my defense,_ Mycroft attempted to clear himself. _Your son, asked me, what-_

"You could have said," I said through clenched teeth. "ask your parents, since we call every night." I cleared my throat. "How are Alexander and Scott?"

 _Good._ Linda says. _Grandma and grandpa are coming soon to help uncle Mycroft. How are you and dad?_

"Aunt Mary's on her way here."

 _Oh,_ Sherlock says. _Then we'll get off._

"No!" I say quickly. "Not yet."

 _But you're working,_ he declared _. it's important._

"I may be working with your father, but, I've always got time for you two. Our work is important, but never more than you are. Do you understand me?

 _Yes._ Linda chirped.

 _That doesn't make sense._ Sherlock Jr. sounded perplexed. _We're just wasting time talking with you, when you should be helping Aunt Mary._

I moan. "My mother and Sherlock's mother must have put quite a curse on us."

 _What's that mean?_ He asks.

I exhaled. "It means that you're going to be just like your father. Only time will tell how good that's going to be for you. So, tell me, what have you two been up to?"

 _Oh God._ Mycroft moaned.

Linda cackled, rather manically for a girl her age. _Uncle Mycroft and Sherlock have been so bad._

My ears perk up. "Really? Tell me all about it Linda."

* * *

 **Author's note:** **Hello everyone, I know, I promised fast updates when I posted my last chapter in February. However, the very next day, I had an accident. Long story short, I fell while climbing some rocks and I broke my wrist. I've only now been able to start typing. So, give my wrist a little time to adjust and the updates should start flowing out faster. Apologies that this one's a little short, but I didn't want to keep you waiting anymore.**

 **P.S. I also created a poll a while ago. The Robin Hood fandom's been leading the poll, so, I'd love to see some of the Sherlock fandom help even out they playing field a bit.**


	10. 10: I love, you love, and he loves

Chapter Ten: I love, you love, and he loves

* * *

If this were a Disney film moment, I'd look like a female version of Hades. I was going to kill Mycroft as soon as I got back to London!

"Not like this, my friend." Karim's voice came drifting up the stairs as I came down them. After talking with my children, I just felt like sliding into my nightdress and kimono. "You haven't got a chance, not a chance." I come down toweling my hair, listening to the two boys. Had I not known they were playing a game, it could have been interpreted differently in a dirty moment. "I've got you where I want you." I began grinning at this idiotic conversation. "Give in! Give in! I will destroy you. You're completely at my mercy."

"Mr. Baker," Sherlock sighs in satisfaction. "well, that completes the set."

"No," he laughs in glee. "it does not."

"Well," he frowns as he looks down at his cards. "who else am I missing?"

"Master Bun." Sherlock makes a face at Karim's smiling one. "It's not a set without him. How many more times, Mr. Sherlock?"

Sherlock exhales in exasperation as I sit down on the edge of the table. Sherlock glances in my direction for a moment. "Maybe it's because I'm not familiar with the concept."

He glances up nonchalantly, noting Mary standing there, looking completely flabbergasted. "Oh, hi, Mary."

I bring my hand up and wave cheekily at her. "Hello Mary."

"What concept?" Karim had merely glanced at Mary before turning back to Sherlock.

" Happy families."

I run my hand down his arm. "I'd say you're getting there."

"Down girl." He looks towards Mary and asks innocently. "Nice trip?"

"How the f-

"Please, Mary." Sherlock interrupts her. "There is a child present." He looks toward me. "And a wife with virgin ears."

Mary exhales. "How did you get in here?!"

"Karim let us in."

"Hello." Karim smiles brightly and waves up at her.

Mary nods to him as pulls her headscarf down onto her shoulders. I notice how she's wearing a brunette wig on her head. "Karim," Sherlock asks in his way-too-calm voice. "would you be so kind as to fetch us some tea?"

"Sure."

"Thank you." as Karim stands up, Sherlock checks under a few of his cards, possibly cheating. I don't know how to play happy games, but I do know my husband and if he's losing, he'll try cheating.

"You jug head." I mutter as I shake my head disapprovingly as he runs a finger up and down my leg.

"Nice to meet you," Karim says. "missus."

Mary, however, is still in shock over how we got there, so, she can't come up with a response. As Karim leaves, she turns her blank stare over to Sherlock. "No, I-I-I mean how did you find me?"

"I'm Sherlock Holmes." I roll my eyes. Only Sherlock Holmes could make such a ludicrous statement and expect people to take his word as gospel.

"No, really, though, how?" She demands, her voice begins to wind up, growing more hysterical. "Every movement I made was entirely random; every new personality just on the roll of a dice!"

"Mary, no human action is ever truly random." He adopts his deduction tone. "An advanced grasp of the mathematics of probability mapped onto a thorough apprehension of human psychology and the known dispositions of any given individual can reduce the number of variables considerably." Poor Mary just stares at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. I cannot help but smile and look at him in admiration as he rattles all this off. "I myself know of at least fifty-eight techniques to refine this seemingly infinite array of randomly generated possibilities down to the smallest number of feasible variables." She nods, seemingly accepting it. "But they're really difficult, so instead I just ... stuck a tracer on the inside of the memory stick."

Mary stares at him in shock for a moment before laughing. "Oh, you bastard!" Sherlock and I both begin laughing as well. He grabs me around the waist and tugs me into his lap. I love hearing Sherlock laugh like this, he rarely does and he's got such a wonderful smile. "You bastard!

"I know," he says unapologetically, still with a huge smile on his face. "but your face!"

"The mathematics of probability?!" she quotes him.

"You believed that." he bobs his head proudly

Mary throws up her hands in exasperation. "Feasible variables!"

"Yes," he looks upwards as he admits. "I started to run out about then."

Mary clenches her hands together in frustration. "In the memory stick!"

"Yeah," at that moment John walks in the room. "that was my idea."

She turns to look at John and her smile slowly drops. I sigh, poor John. He and Mary, like Sherlock and I, were going to have a rough start to their marriage. We'd both married our ideal partner, both with secrets that we both had to live with. Adjusting to our partner and helping make the perfect life together was the hardest part. I, however, was more accepting of Sherlock's antics than John was of Mary's.

Sherlock stands up, scooping me up. "Come on you, let's give them an hour." He frowns. "You really should finish getting dressed."

"It's too hot."

"No need to start up trouble." He reminds me. "Remember, we're not in London or America anymore."

"Fine," I snort. "but this is so medieval! Tell me this." I pat him on the chest. "Do you still have the keys to your brother's house, so you can break in and asphyxiate him if the whim arises?"

He frowns. "Possibly. Why?"

"I want you to castrate him." I state seriously. "Or, buried alive. Anything, as long as he's dead."

Sherlock freezes and looks down at me. "What did he do?"

"He took it upon himself to educate the children in the areas of sex and multiple other things which are more suitable for adults instead of 5 years olds! Is he really such an idiot!?"

"The key is in my nightstand at home." Sherlock said with a straight face. "I'll hold him, you cut."

"Agreed." I look up at him and ask hesitantly, noting the hard expression on my husband's face. "You are joking, right?"

"No, I am not."

* * *

By the time Sherlock has gotten off the phone with Mycroft and shouted at him in various languages so I'd not know what they were saying, night has fallen outside. It could almost be a beautiful night outside, were it not for the tension in the air outside. The whole city seemed to be on edge.

"You're always a good man, John." I stop outside the door, wanting to give them a moment together. Sherlock continues into the room and after rolling my eyes, I follow him in. Mary's removed that wig, so she looks like herself again. "I've never doubted that. You never judge; you never complain. I don't deserve you. I," she hesitates for a moment before admitting. "all I ever wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, that's all."

John reaches out and puts his hand on top of Mary's hands. As always, during an intimate moment, Sherlock chooses to speak. "I will keep you safe." I note how John lowers his hand as Sherlock stands up. "But it has to be in London. It's my city; I know the turf." Mary glances towards him briefly but returns her gaze back to John, who looks away from her. I've got a bad feeling that this adventure has put their marriage on hold again. I walk over to the table and reach for my water bottle, which I'd left down here earlier. "Come home and everything will be all right, I promise you."

No sooner had those words left his mouth did Mary suddenly grab John and pull him to the floor. Sherlock shouts out urgently, "Get down!" just as several shots are fired. I throw myself backwards against the wall; something stings my side and back hard, causing me to cringe. Sherlock grabs the table, flips to provide a barrier for John and Mary. He reaches for me and I crouch downwards and grab his hand as Mary pulls her gun from her bag and fires at whoever, possibly Ajay, kicks the door open and marches in. Mary fires a few more shots before dropping beside Sherlock and me at the opposite end of the room. Sherlock and I are really scrunched in, but I do notice how he's shielding me so I won't get hurt.

"Hello, again."

"Ajay?" Mary sounds relieved and confused.

"Oh, you remember me." he sneers darkly. "I'm touched."

"Look, I thought you were dead," she explains, with a bit of a plea in her voice, desperate for her old friend to believe her. "believe me, I did."

"I've been looking forward to this for longer than you can imagine." The darkness and hatred in his voice gave me the chills.

"I swear to you, I thought you were dead." Sherlock brushes my hair with his hand. I frown, odd gesture at this moment. I don't even think he's aware he's doing it. His eyes are riveted to the doorway, where Ajay is. "I thought I was the only one who got out."

Ajay takes a single shot at John's table, an attempt to goad Mary into giving away her position. Sherlock reaches towards Mary and she gives him her pistol. "How did you find us?" Sherlock asks.

"By following you, Sherlock Holmes." I cringe inwardly, just a little bit. "I mean, you're clever, you found her, but I found you, so perhaps not so clever." I roll my eyes as Sherlock looks around. "And now here we are, at last."

Sherlock pops up for a moment, jostling me for a moment as he fires at the light overhead before swinging around to aim at Ajay, who chuckles at this moment. "Touché."

"Listen," John, the sane one, attempts to be the mediator. "whatever you think you know, we can talk about this. We can work it out."

"She thought I was dead." I had a hunch that any of John's attempts to diffuse the situation would go unnoticed. This man was a soldier, a desperate soldier and I had a hunch that he'd been put through hell several times. "I might as well have been."

"It was always just the four of us," Mary decides to provoke sentimental thoughts, but days gone by wouldn't do her any good. The days that that long gone by, for AJ, only filled him with torment. "always, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." A touch of angry sarcasm, I note, in his voice.

"So," Mary asks. "why do you want to kill me?"

"Do you know how long they kept me prisoner; what they did to me? They tortured Alex to death." I noted how he shuddered a bit, reliving a memory that had been torturing him for so many years. "I can still hear the sound of his back breaking." "But you, you," he demanded. "where were you?"

"That day at the embassy, I escaped."

"Oh, yeah." He's still angry with Mary for escaping.

"But I lost sight of you too, so you explain: where were you?"

"Oh, I got out ... for a while. Long enough to hide my memory stick. I didn't want that to fall into their hands. I was loyal, you see; loyal to my friends." The bitterness, darkness, anger and despair was hard to listen to as Ajay revealed the truth to Mary. "But they took me, tortured me. Not for information. Not for anything except fun. Oh, they thought I'd give in, die, but I didn't. I lived, and eventually they forgot about me just rotting in a cell somewhere. Six years they kept me there, until one day I saw my chance. Oh, and I made them pay. You know, all the time I was there, I just kept picking up things. Little whispers, laughter, gossip about how the clever agents had been betrayed. Brought down by you."

"Me?" Ajay rises from his hiding place at the moment a train passes by. Mary grabs the pistol, which Sherlock has extended out to her. Mary meets Ajay and they stop inches away from each other aiming. I hold my breath as they each point their guns at the other's head.

Everyone stops moving and Ajay gasps at the sight of Mary. "You know I'll kill you too." I frown slightly at her choice of words. "You know I will, Ajay."

"What, you think I care if I die?" He drops one hand from his gun as he takes a step forward. Sherlock shifts me off to the side and stands up, angling me behind him. "I've dreamed of killing you every night for six years," he leans forward so that Mary's gun is touching his forehead. "of squeezing the life out of your treacherous, lying throat." His voice rises, telling us his emotions are starting to spiral.

"I swear to you, Ajay." Mary warns him again. I note John starting to stand up, pointing his gun at Ajay as well.

"What did you hear, Ajay?" Sherlock asks his voice calm and controlled. "When you were a prisoner, what exactly did you hear?"

Ajay exhales. "What did I hear?" he hesitates for a few moments. "Ammo." I frown and look at Sherlock, not expecting that little word to be all he heard. "Every day as they tore into me. Ammo. Ammo." His voice and hand begins to tremble with the repeat of that word. "Ammo. Ammo." He shouts at Mary, causing her to realize that maybe she was in a bit more trouble than she realized. "We were betrayed!"

"And they said it was her?"

"You betrayed us!"

"They said her name?" Sherlock questioned firmly.

"Yeah, they said it was the English woman."

I inhale sharply and say. "There are many English women in the world, what makes you think that it was Mary?" He never gets to answer me, for at that moment a police officer comes into the room and fires two shots into Ajay's back.

Mary screams as he drops to the ground. "No! No!" she cries as she drops her gun. Both she and John scramble to attend to Ajay, but I know he's already dead.

I stand up and exhale. A crash causes me to jump and I notice Karim standing there, the tray on the floor. He looks horrified at the sight before him. I exhale again and note I'm having trouble breathing. I place a hand on my waist and hiss in pain. I pull back my hand to look at it, to notice that it's dripping red. I look up towards Sherlock, who's now turned his gaze towards me. "Sherlock?" I croak out.

He does as quick scan of me, his eyes noticing my side instantly. "John! Mary!" He declares. "Tammy's shot!"

I shake my head as he reaches for me. "Oh." I swallow. "I guess…I got nicked." And I passed out in that moment; however, he did catch me before I hit the floor.

* * *

I awoke and groaned. "I'm fine." Seriously! Why did my body have to chose the worst moments to be pathetically weak?

"Stay down." Sherlock, Mary and John said in unison, causing me to chuckle.

"I'm fine." I tried sitting up, inhaling sharply. I looked down at my side as Mary began wrapping the wound. "What's the diagnosis?"

"It went straight through, missing all your major arteries and vital organs. You were very lucky."

"indeed." I turned to Sherlock. "Call Mycroft and arrange for us to get back home."

He holds up the phone. "Waiting for him to pick up."

I smirk. "My clever husband." He takes my hand and kisses it. "I'm fine."

"You're a horrible liar."

 _Then why are you calling me?_ Mycroft asks on cue. _Seriously, Sherlock?_

"Ah, Mycroft." Sherlock stands up. "Ajay is dead. But before he died, he said that their team was betrayed."

 _For God's sake Sherlock._ Mycroft groused. _Can't you two just get back here? Your wife has no business going off to that uncivilized country. It's not safe for her!_

Sherlock glowered at me, fury still on his face. "Since she took a bullet, I'm inclined to agree with you."

 _What?!_

I grab Sherlock's phone from him. "I'm fine Mycroft," I assure him. "we'll be on the next plane back. But talk with Sherlock first, he's got something more important than my welfare." I hand the phone back to Sherlock. "Put it on speaker."

"Shut up, you're injured, don't be bossing me around." He mutters, but does as I ask anyway. Normally, I don't allow him to talk to me like this, but he's stressed out so I'll allow it…this once. "The English woman," Sherlock shoots me another scowl, which I attempt to shrug off, until John puts pressure on my wound. "that's all he heard. Naturally he assumed it was Mary."

 _Couldn't this wait until you're back? I've barely managed to escape from your four children!_

"No, it's not over. Ajay said that they'd been betrayed. The hostage takers knew AGRA was coming. There was only a voice on the phone, remember, and a code word."

 _Ammo, yes, you said._

"How's your Latin," Sherlock is now getting testy. "brother dear?"

 _My_ _Latin_ _?_

"Amo, amas, amat. "

 _I love, you love, he loves. What?_

"Not 'ammo' as in 'ammunition' but 'amo,' meaning?" he lets his voice trail off and Mycroft gets it.

I can just imagine Mycroft straightening up and his face becoming stern as Sherlock's words penetrate his thick skull. _You'd better be right, Sherlock. I'm sending the jet down to collect all of you._

The Holmes brothers hang up on each other and Sherlock moves towards me. "Ok, the flight is ready."

"I really," John states. "shouldn't clear her for flying, but, she's got to get home."

I yawn. "I'm fine." Sherlock picks me up and I wrap my arms around his neck. "Sherlock'll take care of me. He always…does." And just like that, I'm unconscious again.


	11. 11: Drowning in Darkness

Chapter eleven: Drowning in Darkness

* * *

The moment we got back from Agra, Mycroft was at the airport with the children, Sherlock's parents, a doctor and an ambulance. Sherlock, insisted on carrying me all the way to the ambulance, depositing me in the back before planting a kiss on my forehead and hurrying off! I endured all the poking and prodding from the doctors, but as I suspected, John had done a good job patching me up and I was dismissed from the hospital.

Molly and Charles actually dropped in on me to see how I was and to offer to watch the children. However, Mrs. Hudson insisted on supervising all four of them, she loved it. Molly and Charles were actually engaged now, which was a lovely thing. I'd put Charles's heart through the ringer as Sherlock had done to Molly for years, so, it was almost appropriate that because of Sherlock and I that they were able to find each other. They were a good couple and would make each other far happier than Sherlock or I ever could have.

My phone rang, informing me that it was Sherlock calling to check in on me, again. Honestly, at times that man was a bigger child than our children were! He's called me several times already, making sure everything was alight.

I picked up the phone. "Hello darling. I hope you have a problem because I'm fine."

He exhales. _How did you know?_

"I just guessed." I nestled under the blanket on the couch, being careful not to jar my shoulder. "Where are you?"

 _Vauxhall Bridge._ He exhales deeply. _Something's not right._

I figured, otherwise you wouldn't be calling me."

 _Well, I could be calling you to have phone sex._ I rolled my eyes. _But I'm not sure if the kids are near you or not._

"Well, I never put the phone on speaker Sherlock because I never know what's going to come out of your mouth." He laughs lightly. "Most of the time…it's fairly pleasurable or entertaining"

 _Did you know that the first time we kissed?_ He questioned as I flashed back to our rather forced kiss. Well, somewhat forced. That kiss told us that we loved each other.

I smiled as I reached for my water. "Yes, I remember it very clearly. You ruined my dress."

 _Well, it kinda worked out in the end. It was also the first time I saw you naked._ I choked and blushed. _The mirror._

"God, Sherlock!" I rubbed my neck. "You say the damndest things at times."

 _And you love it._

"Maybe I did, but back to business, please." I cleared my throat. "You've piqued my curiosity; it's been a while since you've asked for my help. So, what feels wrong? Is it lady Smallwood?"

 _Yes, she's innocent._ He exhales. _So, clearly, we've missed something. But, you don't seem too surprised._

"I never thought lady Smallwood capable of being a traitor. She's like the female version of Mycroft." Sherlock let out a groan. "I know, it's not a pleasant thought."

 _That's a rather horrifying thought._

"I think they'd make a cute couple."

 _Now you're making me sick._

"Well, you can't say it wouldn't be possible. They're around the same age and both have the same work ethics and sense of style. I daresay she can keep up with Mycroft and keep him guessing."

 _Tammy,_ he sounded distraught. _I need to unsee them as a couple in my head now!_

"Sorry darling, but you brought up nudity first. But, I'll be the more mature adult and I'll focus on your call now."I hear him mutter something, but chose not to ask him about it. He's a little irritated, I can sense that. "So, whoever alerted the terrorists, they had to be connected to lady Smallwood, someone close to her." Sherlock makes a sound, but I dismiss it as I continue. "Someone who she'd trust…but could never suspect. This is one of those, 'person you'd least suspect' moments. Someone probably so small and insignificant that they wouldn't pose a threat to anyone."

 _I've got it!_

"What?"

 _I'll call you back._

"Wait!" I shout, my voice causing the kids to run in. And like that, he hangs up on me. Oh you! I hate you sometimes!" I groan and look at my children, who've all picked that moment to enter the room. "If you two weren't present, I'd be cursing now."

"Daddy causing trouble again?" Linda asks.

I chuckle as I pull myself up from the couch. "Not really."

"You shouldn't get up now." Sherlock Jr. stated matter-of-factly. "You should get some rest, relax and allow your body to heal."

I pause and eye him. "How much did your dad pay you to say that?"

He swallows before saying. "5 pounds."

I laugh. "5 pounds?"

"He first offered 5 quid, but I told him that if I was going to be telling you what to do, I'd be in trouble, so, he needed to pay better."

I chuckled. "Are you sure you two are four going on five and not fifteen?"

Sherlock Jr. nodded. "I'm sure."

"Ok, now, can you two go find Mrs. Hudson? I need to talk to your father, which means, I've got to go find him."

"But, then I won't get my money!" Sherlock Jr. protested.

"I'll take you both shopping and your father will pay for it." I reached for my phone and dialed Sherlock. He didn't pick up. So, after trying him twice more, I finally dialed Mycroft. I needed to know what was going on. This case had so much surrounding it and Sherlock had been under stress for so many months that I needed to be present for it ending. "Where are you meeting Sherlock?" I asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

 _What?_ He sounds astonished. _How did you-_

"Never mind how I know. Where is he headed?"

 _Sea Life London Aquarium inside County Hall._

"Thank you, I'll see you there."

 _No, you can't-_

And I hang up on Mycroft, head to my closet, and select an old, beige dress. To be honest, I'm not sure why I had to go where Sherlock was. I'd been shot, my shoulder was killing, but some great force was propelling me to go forward. It was as if something horrific was going to happen.

* * *

The aquarium was surprisingly deserted, but then it was near closing time. I met Mycroft and a crew of officers outside. Mycroft clears his throat. "Tammy, you shouldn't be out of bed."

"Room with the sharks." I declare. "He'll be there."

"Fine." He sighs and we walk briskly towards the shark display, with Mycroft leading me. I try not to feel uneasy, but it's a weird feeling of animals trapped behind glass, especially fish. Their eyes always creeped me out, they always looked lifeless. "Nervous?"

I shake my head. "Something's wrong Mycroft. I don't know what. Sherlock hung up on me mid phone call and I've got this horrible feeling in my stomach."

"What kind of feeling?"

"The feeling I felt," I paused for a moment as I tried to place it. "when I saw Sherlock jump off the room."

My words spurned Mycroft to move faster. The halls are even more eerie with the creepy lights and a sense of tension made this trip less desirable. It was as if we were drowning in this bizarre, deep blue darkness. I clutched my shoulder, keeping pace with Mycroft as we neared the shark display.

"So yes, I say jealousy was your motive after all," I recognize Sherlock's quick fire tone, informing me I've missed another one of his deduction sections. I've got a sick feeling that maybe Sherlock's tongue got the better of him and he pushed her too far. I'm not sure why, she seems calm, but that's never a good sign. "to prove how good you are," at that point Mycroft and I enter the room. "to make up for the inadequacies of your little life."

"Well, Mrs Norbury," Mycroft sighs as we observe it's the secretary that Sherlock's drilling. Mary is standing beside him and she looks worried. We briefly hold eye contact for a moment before turning back to Sherlock and Vivian. "I must admit this is unexpected."

"Vivian Norbury, who outsmarted them all," Sherlock drawls out sarcastically. "all except Sherlock Holmes." everyone slowly starts to move forward slowly. Sherlock speaks softly as he holds his hand out to her. "There's no way out."

"So it would seem." She smiles a little. "You've seen right through me, Mr. Holmes."

"It's what I do."

I frown, the tension in the air is wrong. "Sherlock," I breathe out. "enough."

The woman tilts her head to the side. "Maybe I can still surprise you." She raises her arm, revealing she's got a gun, which she's now aiming at my husband.

My heart flies up in my throat as Greg takes a step forward. "Come on now." He reasons with her. "Be sensible."

The woman hesitates for a moment before saying. "No, I don't think so."

The moment she fire the gun, my heart stops in my chest. I gasp and cover my mouth as everything unfolds in slow motion for me. I can see the bullet heading straight for his chest and a cry comes from my lips. Sherlock moves, stumbling to the side and I reach for him only to be hindered by Mycroft. It's only when Mary falls to the ground do I realize that she's shoved Sherlock out of the way…taking the bullet herself.

"Surprise." Vivian practically sneers at us.

I'm vaguely aware of Greg and the other officers disarming Vivian as Sherlock and I instantly hurry to Mary's form. Sherlock reaches her first and instantly begins to press on the wound. I grab her hand and she squeezes it tightly, whimpering in pain as Sherlock tries to keep her calm. "Everything's fine. It's gonna be okay." He turns towards Mycroft and orders. "Get an ambulance!"

"It'll be fine Mary," I assure her even though I'm sure I'm lying to her. "John's on his way, he'll take care of you." it's at that moment John runs in the room. "He's here Mary." The look on John's face made me sick to my stomach and a small part of me told me that Mary was dying and there was nothing anyone could do.


	12. 12: The Frailties of the Human Heart

Chapter twelve: The Frailties of the Human Heart

* * *

Mary!" John races around the chairs to get to Mary.

"John!" she's breathing heavily as Sherlock and John switch places, applying pressure to her wound.

"Mary? Mary?" John begged as she weakly looks up at him. "Stay with me. Stay with me."

"Oh, come on." there's a hint of defeat in Mary's words. "Oh, come on, Doctor, you can do better than that." her voice cracks at the end.

"Come on, Mary." Tears begin streaming down my cheeks as Mary lets out a cry. Sherlock straightens and reaches backwards for my hand. I inhale as I reach out and take his hand. "Mary, come on."

"God," Mary inhales raggedly. "John, I think this is it."

I look to Sherlock as John shakes his head. "No, no, no, no, it's not." As John looks at the wound, Sherlock gives me the slightest of nods, cementing my worst fear. Mary was going to die.

"You made me so happy." Mary declares as John forces himself to smile at her. "You gave me everything I could ever, ever ... want."

John shushes her gently. "Mary, Mary." My heart breaks as he runs his free hand over her forehead.

"Look after Rosie." She tearfully pleads. "Promise me."

"I promise." John chokes out. "Yes, I promise. I promise."

Mary runs her hands down the side of his face before turning to look weakly up at us. "Hey, Sherlock."

"Yes?" I can feel Sherlock is still in shock by this change of events, but his tone is calm and controlled. I grip his hand tighter.

"I ... so like you." Mycroft and Lestrade come back in, but they stand a short distance away from us. "Did I ever say?"

I look to Mycroft who mouths, _5 minutes,_ to me.

"Yes. Yes, you did." Sherlock tries to choke back tears at Mary's words.

"I'm sorry ... for shooting you that time. I'm really sorry."

"It's-it's all right." Sherlock tries to force a smile for her sake.

"I think we're even now," she pleads. "ok?"

Sherlock nods as he whispers. "Okay."

She smiles weakly at me, holding her hand out. "Tammy."

I reached out for her hand and squeezed. "Oh, Mary."

"I'm glad…you were…here." She inhales. "Look after…them all."

I nod. "I swear it. You're like…a sister to me Mary and," I inhale, trying desperately not to break down in tears. "I always wanted one."

She smiles at me, a pain filled smile. "That's nice to know."

"And…for the record," I swipe a tear away. "I-I, probably, would…have shot him." I croaked out. "You…beat me…to it."

She chuckles before gasping in pain. I stand up, reaching for Sherlock as John attempts to comfort her. "Mary. Mary."

"I think we're even; definitely ... even." I cover my mouth as she looks up at John, her voice breaking as she starts to cry. "You ... you were my whole world." John closes his eyes in anguish; my heart had felt his agony once so many years before. The helplessness was a horrible feeling. Being tortured to death would have been preferable to being subjected to these emotions for one second. I buried my face in Sherlock's coat and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we listened to Mary's final words. "Being Mary Watson ... was the only life worth living. Thank you."

I hold my breath, unwilling to turn around for fear that she was dead. All is silent, deathly silent. I turn slowly to see Mary's body is so relaxed that she's slumped over and is not moving. John is removing his hands from the side of her neck. I could see he'd looked for a pulse…but had failed to find one.

"Mary." John whispers her name as his hand drops from her neck. I hold my breath, afraid of what's about to unfold before me. John cradles Mary's body, his chin resting atop her head as he stares at nothing in particular. His eyes are vacant and blank as he looks down at Mary again.

I turn to Sherlock; we're both unable to believe that this moment has actually happened. One of our best friends has just died right before our eyes. John looks downwards and lets out an almost animalistic, pain-filled howl. I cover my mouth as tears drip down my cheeks. John lets out another cry and Sherlock reaches out to touch him, to give him some support. John looks up, hate and anger leveled at Sherlock, causing him to stop. "Don't you dare." He bites out savagely, startling me for a moment. "You made a vow. You swore it."

"John," I croak out. "Sherlock didn't-

"He swore it!" He shouted at us, causing me to jump. "He swore!"

Sherlock takes a step back, pulling me towards him as John pulls Mary back to him. I bury my face in Sherlock's coat, as desperately as I want to argue with John, I know the pain he's felt all too well. There is nothing that anyone can say to make one feel better. John will have to fight his own battle to find a sense of normality.

Sherlock takes me by the arm and guides me out of the aquarium, I cling to him tightly. I feel some guilt and but I also felt a sense of relief for Mary, saved my husband's life. He wouldn't even be here without her sacrifice. All four of my children would be without their father, but Rose, would never know her mother. I felt anger at myself for allowing myself to feel relief for her sacrifice. It was wrong and how could I ever forgive myself for feeling this way?

* * *

 _Later, that evening,_

* * *

Telling the children and Mrs. Hudson was torture for us. Everyone started crying; Sherlock and Linda went to bed early and cried themselves into a fit less sleep. The agony of watching them cry was horrible. I tried to comfort them, but they wanted to be left alone. Scott and Alexander, they were lucky enough to be young enough so they couldn't understand what was going on. They probably wouldn't even remember their aunt in the years to come.

It was almost midnight when I got up from our bed to go find Sherlock. He was sitting on the couch, staring vacantly ahead. I sighed and stepped towards him, he turned as he heard the sound of my blue silk robe.

"I was coming in shortly."

I nodded as I sat down next to him. "So, you've been saying for hours." I sat down next to him and he tucked me into the crook of his arm. I sighed and held onto him. I wanted to cry, needed to cry, but feared that if I'd start crying I'd never stop.

"It's alright Tammy." He said quietly. I looked up at him questioningly. "You can cry. I wish I could."

I inhaled and let the tears just stream down my face in utter silence. Sherlock silently reaches for my hand and holds me tightly. "Why…isn't it raining?" I ask Sherlock, surprised that the words that I'd been thinking came to life.

He looks confused for a moment. "I'm sorry?"

"Why…isn't it…raining?" I repeated again as more sobs welled up in my chest. "It's supposed to…rain when it's wrong." Sherlock turns towards me. "It should be…flooding the streets right now."

He said no words as he holds me close, wrapping me in his tight embrace. I cried into his chest as he held onto me so tight, his arms under my shoulders and my legs intertwined with his.

"When does the path we walk on lock around our feet?" he asks quietly. "When does the road become a river with only one destination? Death waits for us all in Samarra. But can Samarra be avoided?"

I shake my head. "No Sherlock. When your time is up, it's up." I bite my lip and ask. "Is it normal," he frowns and looks at me. "to feel relieved that…you're alright?" I sniffle as he looks down at me. "It feels wrong."

"You're human," he kisses my brow, holding onto me tighter. "human, my love. Yes, you loved Mary, but I'm your husband. If not for her…I'd be dead."

"Don't let me go tonight." I whisper. "Don't let me go."

"I won't." he kissed my brow several times. "I'll be here. I'll be here. I promise."

"Poor John," I croaked. "he's been hurt so many times. I know time heals everything, but, he might not recover from this."

"He will, you did, once upon a time ago."

I shook my head. "I'd have never married Charles; I'd have wound up leaving him at the altar. In spite, of everything I put you through; I was still in love with you. John…he has that kind of love for Mary, we've lost him."

"He needs time," Sherlock assures me as he presses a kiss to my forehead, his grip relaxing slightly. "we all do. The human heart is frail…we're going to have to go through hell….several times…before we're completely mended."


	13. 13: Appropriate Sacrifice

Chapter thirteen: Appropriate Sacrifice

* * *

When I woke up, I was alone. For a moment I was upset, then, I saw the clock. It was almost Noon. As much as Sherlock loved me, I couldn't expect him to stay in bed with me all day. I got up and silently dressed. I went to go climb upstairs to visit the children, when I saw a note on the floor.

I picked it up and read it. _If you're still in bed by noon, all the kids are on a field trip to the zoo, my parents are supervising them and I had Mycroft send a guard._ I smiled faintly at that _. We both need a few hours to compose ourselves and the children need a distraction. When are they going back to school by the way?_

I rolled my eyes as I crumbled up the note and threw it away. Smoothing the purple top over my black skirt, I exited our room to see Mrs. Hudson sitting in John's chair with a box of tissues, Sherlock was in his chair. He looked towards me and held my gaze as I approached him. "Morning."

"Morning." I murmured back as he kissed my mouth and then cheek. "I overslept."

"You needed it." he assured me gently. "You were tired."

"Nothing will ever be the same again," Mrs. Hudson sniffles. "will it?"

"I'm afraid it won't." Sherlock said somewhat sympathetically.

"We'll have to rally round, I expect. Do our bit." Mrs. Hudson starts crying again. "Look after little Rosie."

It's at this moment; I realized I've become somewhat cold, like my husband, who stands up. It's as if…I can't cry, or, I just didn't have any more tears to cry on Mary's behalf. "Just going to, um," he looks around, semi-confused before turning to his laptop, which is on the dining room table. "look through these things. There might be a case."

"A case?" I want to reprimand Sherlock as he sits back down in front of his laptop, but I can't. "Oh. You're not up to it, are you?" Mrs. Hudson turns to me. "It's too early."

I exhale deeply. "I'm afraid…I'm becoming like him Mrs. Hudson. At least today I am."

"Work is the best antidote to sorrow, Mrs. Hudson." He states in a calm voice.

I nod in agreement with Mrs. Hudson. "Yes, yes, I expect you're right." She gets up out of her chair and I give her a hug. She exhales and holds me close for a moment before breaking the hug. She pats my cheek and smiles warmly at me. "I'll make some tea, shall I?"

"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asks.

"Yes, Sherlock?" she questions.

I can't see his face, but, I know this stance. The last time I saw it, it was back when Sherlock and I had begun working on our marriage and we had many humbling confessions to share with each other. "If you ever think I'm becoming a bit ... full of myself, cocky or," he inhales. "over-confident."

"Yes?"

He turns and faces her, fully addressing her. "Would you just say the word 'Norbury' to me, would you?"

"Norbury." She looks a bit unsure for a moment.

He nods. "Just that." He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "I'd be very grateful." I didn't miss the plead in his tone.

He looks towards me and I nod. "I know, darling. I know."

He smiles sadly at me before turning to the stack of paperwork. Sherlock frowns as he picks up a padded envelope. "What's this?"

"Oh, I brought that up." Mrs. Hudson explains as she heads towards the kitchen. "It was mixed up with my things." Sherlock opens the envelope and pulls out a DVD. I let out a gasp as I notice the words, 'miss me?' written on the disk.

Mrs. Hudson turns back to head towards the desk. "No," I shake my head as Sherlock stares at the disc. "he cannot-

"Oh God." Mrs. Hudson's face grows white. "Is that-?

"Must be." Sherlock goes to put the disc inside his DVD player. My stomach churns as Mrs. Hudson and I each sit on an arm of Sherlock's chair. "I knew it wouldn't end like this." My heart rate picks up at the tension in Sherlock's voice. "I knew Moriarty made plans."

"Not again." I exhale. "I wish….why torment us from the grave? If he's dead."

At that moment, the disc begins to play. To my relief, its Mary treasured face that appears on the screen. She smiles into the camera. _Thought_ _that would get your attention._ Sherlock sinks back in his chair and I exhale in relief. _Sorry, about that Tammy didn't mean to scare you. However, you know Sherlock and his papers, unless it's intriguing, he won't touch it._ I shake my head and reach for his hand. _So, this is in case ... in case the day comes. If you are watching this, I'm ... probably dead. I hope I can have an ordinary life, but who knows? Nothing's certain; nothing's written. My old life, it was full of consequences_. She smiles briefly at us, a twinge of regret. _The danger was the fun part, but you can't outrun that forever._ She gestures towards the screen. _You need to remember that Sherlock. Tammy, she'll…try to keep you on the straight and narrow, but…still. One never knows._ She exhales. _I'm giving you a case, Sherlock._

Sherlock and I both lean forward. _Might be the hardest case of your career. When I'm ... gone –_ _if_ _I'm gone – I need you to do something for me._ Sherlock swallows and I know he's already worked out what it is. I release his hand. _I'm giving you a case, Sherlock._ _When I'm gone,_ _if_ _I'm gone. I need you to do something for me. Save John Watson._ My heart jumps in my chest. _Save him, Sherlock. Save him._

The world seems to blur away from me as I lose myself in Mary's speech. _Don't think anyone else is going to save him, because there isn't anyone. It's up to you. Save him. But I do think you're gonna need a little bit of help with that, because you're not exactly good with people, so here's a few things you need to know about the man we both love – and more importantly what you're going to need to do to save him._

 _John Watson never accepts help, not from_ _anyone_ _, not ever. But here's the thing: he never_ _refuses_ _it. So, here's what you are going to do. John Watson never accepts help, not from_ _anyone_ _. Not ever. But here's the thing: he never_ _refuses_ _it. So, here's what you are going to do. You can't save John because he won't_ _let_ _you. He won't allow himself to be saved. The only way to save John ... is to make him save_ _you_ _. Go to Hell, Sherlock._

I frown, by the seriousness of her tone, I know that our life is once again going to be turned upside down and put into a huge state of chaos. I bite my lip, digging my hand into my knee.

 _Go right into Hell, and make it look like you mean it. Go and pick a fight with a bad guy. Put yourself in harm's way._ Now, panic begins to fill my very being again. _If he thinks you need him, I_ _swear_ _... ... he_ _will_ _be there. Tammy, this will be hard for you and the children especially. But please, let Sherlock do this for me. I can't bear to know that John's wallowing in grief on account of me._

Sherlock leans back in his chair, looks at me for a moment before turning to Mrs. Hudson and orders. "Leave."

I sigh and roll my eyes as she hurries out of the room. "I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson." She shrugs and closes the door behind her. I cross my arms and turn to Sherlock. "Ok, drop the bomb on me."

"We're getting a divorce," he states calmly. "again."

I stare at him, not sure why he's saying that to me. "You've got one minute to explain that statement Sherlock."

"We won't be actually getting a divorce." I exhale as he explains. "We're going to fake that we're getting one."

"Ok," I perch on the corner of the desk. "say that first next time. Don't scare me like that."

"Well," he shrugs. "I learned my lesson. You're too valuable to slip out of my life for long."

"Thank you, so," I exhale. "explain what's rolling around in your head to me?"

"We're going to have to plan this out. you're going to leave me and take the children away for a few months."

"Agreed, but we'll have to explain to them why." He shakes his head. "No, I'm not traumatizing them."

"Tammy, their performance will be more believable if-

"Sherlock, we're both drama queens and our children have inherited that trait from us both. Linda already cries on cue," Sherlock stares at me in surprise. "They'll both love it."

As if on cue, I hear all four of our children crying loudly. I stand up and walk to the downstairs. Sure enough, they're there wailing with four bodyguards, who look completely lost. I smile and take pity on them. "Tell Mycroft I'm dismissing you from work." they all nodded and practically ran from the building.

The moment the door shut, Linda and Sherlock stopped crying. "Tedious." Sherlock Jr. muttered.

Linda snorted. "I know."

"Where are your grandparents?" I asked as I came down and begin to fold the double stroller. All four of them look innocently/guilty.

Linda shrugged. "I messaged them, said there'd been a change of plans."

I frowned. "How?" Linda reached into her pocket and handed me back my cell phone. I glower at her. "Linda."

"I shall go take myself to time-out. Is 2 hours sufficient punishment?"

I blink. "Actually, you will write on 2 pieces of paper, I will not steal."

She stared at me before asking. "Both sides?"

"Yes!" Sherlock stepped into his father role. "Don't ever take your mother's stuff without her permission. Understood?" Linda and Sherlock nodded with a pout on their faces. I pushed the stroller into the closet and began helping Scott and Alexander out of their coats. "Well, how was the zoo?" Sherlock questions. "Why were you all crying?"

Linda snorted. "They wouldn't bring us home."

Sherlock wiped his eyes. "That was...undignified?" he looks to his father for verification, who nods. "Undignified, but…effective."

I take Scott's hand and Sherlock takes Alexander's hand. together, we move slowly up the stairs. "I see. You all didn't enjoy the field trip to the zoo?"

"Another day." Linda stated. "I want to pout."

I bite back a smile. "Alright then, you two may do that, upstairs please?"

"Want us to take Scott and Alexander up?" Sherlock Jr. offers. "You two can continue talking."

Sherlock arches a brow but we agree. "Go ahead." Slowly, they continue up the stairs to their room, carefully helping their younger brothers up the stairs. I sigh as I look at this forlorn picture before my eyes. "They're too young for this Sherlock."

"They'll experience grief many times in their lives; you can't keep everything from them."

"I can try."

"You're a sentimental person," I sigh as he rubs my shoulder. "But, I'm a pragmatic person, so, it's a good balance."

"Disastrous at times." We head back into Sherlock's flat. I release a sigh. "And how…are you going to put yourself in harm's way?" he doesn't answer me and I know. "God, not the drugs route." I stop, causing Sherlock to clip my heel with his foot. "Sherlock, please, there must be another solution."

"He knows, I'm a drug addict." I shake my head. "Disagree all you want Tammy, but it's true."

"Isn't there another way? I don't want you to get hurt." I explain. "We've worked so hard at getting you weaned off them."

"But I'm going to get hurt Tammy." He takes my hands. "I'm pleased that you're concerned for me."

"I'm you wife, you idiot, remember?"I give him a shove as I sit down on the couch. "I'm always going to be concerned for you."

He sighs and sits down beside me so he can tug me into his lap. "That's true." he sighs. "I guess…you and the children will have to go on a trip somewhere."

"Where?"

He shrugs. 'I don't know. America maybe?"

I groan. "No, I hate it there."

He laughs. "You grew up there."

"The traffic, the noise, the clothing, the people, the graffiti and whatever vile thing they can put on display." I shudder in horror. "Uggh." I freeze as Sherlock's laugh causes a cold dash of realization to pour over me. "God, I sound like Mycroft."

He laughs again. "I noticed. I'm sorry."

"How many weeks?" I ask.

"Possibly 6." I groan. "I'm sorry. I'll have to plan things out."

"This is going to be hell for me."

"Me as well."

"the things we do for our friends, but, we owe John so much." He nods. "I'm not leaving right away, I'll need at least 2 weeks to decide to take a break. I'll have Mycroft let me use his estate in Ireland." I sigh and I look at him, a twinge of fear fluttering in my heart. "Are we really going to do this?"

He nods. "It's for John. I owe him this."

I sigh. "I know, I owe him too but…I really wish…I've a feeling that it's going to be very close."

"And it will be, but, we'll be together again and John will be better. It'll be worth everything this time."

I'm silent for a moment as Sherlock wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes as I then recite a passage from one of William Golding's books. "I tell you something which may be of value. I believe it to be true and powerful, therefore dangerous. If you want something enough, you can always get it, provided you are willing to make the appropriate sacrifice. Something, anything, but what you get is never quite what you thought. Sooner or later…the sacrifice is always regretted."

Sherlock exhaled as he pressed a kiss to my brow. "Not this time."

I sighed. "I hope…we avoid the road to Sumatra this time around."

He studies me before stating. "I'm certain we will, I can feel it."

"I felt this way too," I added calmly. "then we lost Mary. Now, I don't trust my instincts."


End file.
